#austin x you

[austinbutlerslovers]

Just Between Us

Label Mature 18+

Summary Austin invites Callum Turner to stay at your place for the week, but as the days pass, you begin to suspect they have something planned that they aren’t telling you. Their teasing and lingering touches build tension until, on the final night, they reveal exactly what they’ve been planning all along —both of them want you at the same time.

🔗 Masterlist

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Austin +You + Callum • threesome• both focused on your pleasure •praising •sweet talk • good girl•being kissed by both • being passed between both • being used at the same time by both •fingering •clit play •nipple play • size kink • “Eiffel Tower” •oral on male • cum eating •P in V• simultaneous orgasms• cream pie •after care from both

RIP🐱 💦 Especially @aust-een @soft-mama-reads @psycheetamore @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @abswifey @unicoo

Just Between Us

The morning starts slow, just the way you like it. Sunlight filters through the curtains, golden and warm, stretching across the sheets as you stir awake.

The faint scent of coffee drifts from the kitchen, and when you finally push yourself out of bed, you find Austin already there, barefoot, hair still messy from sleep, an espresso in his hand as he leans lazily against the counter.

“Morning, beautiful,” he smiles, his eyes flicking up from his phone as you step into the kitchen. His voice is still heavy with sleep, rough in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You hum in response, stretching before making your way over to him. He sets his espresso down just in time to pull you against his chest pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Sleep good?” he asks.

You nod against him, relishing the warmth of his body, the way his arms wrap securely around you. “Mmm, would’ve slept better if you stayed in bed longer,” you mumble, half teasing, half serious.

Austin grins, his lips brushing over your forehead. “I tried. But I figured I’d make breakfast instead.”

He gestures toward the counter, where he’s already set out eggs, toast, and fresh fruit.

Your smile up at him lovingly and he smirks. “Go sit,” he says, nudging you toward the stool by the counter. “I’ll make you an espresso.”

You obey, watching him move around the kitchen with practiced ease. The smell of coffee fills the space, mingling with the scent of fresh toast, and for a moment, everything feels perfect—easy, familiar, yours.

“Oh,” Austin says casually, pouring steamed milk into your espresso, the delicate swirl of foam rising to the top. “Callum’s staying for a week.”

Your fork pauses mid air, your eyes snapping to him in disbelief.

“Callum Turner?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly.

Austin smirks, setting the espresso in front of you. “Yeah. Callum Turner.”

Your brain runs wild. First of all, it’s Callum Turner: British, charming, and the embodiment of effortlessly cool. Second of all, it’s Callum Turner staying in your house for a week!

“How did this happen ?” you ask, setting your fork down.

Austin grins at your enthusiasm. “Few days ago. Said he wanted a place to stay that felt more comfortable than a hotel during his visit to the U.S.”

You blink at him in disbelief still processing the information. “What made you say yes?”

Austin leans back his smirk widening seeing how invested you are in Callum’s visit, studying you as if you should already know the answer.

“It’s Callum,” he says simply, grinning as if that explains everything.

The day Callum arrives, the house feels brighter somehow. Maybe it’s his energy, or maybe it’s the way his British accent fills the air, every word of his heavy with charm.

The moment his tall imposing figure steps through the front door his face lights up.

“Austin!” He beams, stepping into the living room “It’s been ages mate. When will you learn to use your cellphone?” Callum jokes his voice a mix of sarcasm and affection.

Austin rolls his eyes but grins. “You’re here aren’t you?” he fires back, though it’s clear from his hug how much he’s missed him.

Callum looks different from the last time you’ve seen him. He’s bulked up broad shoulders, thick arms, and a confidence that radiates effortlessly. His smile is dazzling, his blue eyes magnetic, and you can’t help but feel a little nervous in his presence.

“There she is!” Callum exclaims, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and lifting you clear off the ground. His body feels solid and warm, and for a moment, you’re utterly speechless.

“Austin’s favorite little thing—he never stops going on about you y’know,” he murmurs his accent making the words sound impossibly smooth. He bounces you lightly in his arms, a playful grin on his face, before setting you down gently.

Your cheeks burn as you smooth your skirt, trying to regain composure. “It’s nice to see you too, Callum,” you manage, your voice lighter than usual your face blushing pink.

Austin raises an eyebrow at Callum. “Man-handling her already” he chides, but there’s a warmth in his voice.

Callum grins, unbothered. “She likes it don’t you love?” He says slinging his Louis Vuitton duffle bag over his shoulder.

You quickly change subjects feeling their attention on you. “That’s a beautiful bag Callum,” you say, nodding toward it.

Callum glances back with a boyish grin. “Thanks. I’m the house ambassador now. Perks of the job,” he says casually, before disappearing down the hall with Austin leading him to the guest bedroom.

The days pass in a blur of activity. Austin and Callum fall into their old rhythm, talking about everything from filming Masters of the Air to Callum’s streak of successes. You try to stay out of their way, giving them space to catch up, but they won’t have it, insisting you join them at every opportunity.

You spend more time with them than you expect: grabbing coffee at Austin’s favorite cafe, late-night dinners downtown, and even watching movies together at night.

At the cafe, Callum insists on ordering a new drink for you, his smirk playful as he leans in. “You trust me, don’t you, love?” he grins, effortlessly.

Austin watches, amused, sipping his latte. “If she hates it, you’re drinking it.”

Callum just laughs, unfazed. “Oh, she won’t hate it. I know exactly what she needs.” he says smoothly, his smirk widening as he hands the order over.

Minutes later, the barista sets the drink in front of you a creamy espresso concoction topped with a hint of cinnamon. Callum watches you intently, his eyes glinting with anticipation as you lift the cup to your lips.

The first sip is rich, warm, the cinnamon teasing at the edges of your taste buds. You let it linger before swallowing, considering it.

“Mm it’s really good” you admit your eyes lighting up as you lick your lips.

Callum practically beams, his excitement unshakable. “See? I told you, Austin! I knew she’d like it. She’s such a good girl, isn’t she?”

His voice is smooth, teasing, the words rolling off his tongue like honey—almost as if he knows thats Austin’s secret name for you—the one that has you doing everything he says.

Austin chokes on his latte.

You whip your head toward him, watching as he hastily wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. His brows lift, his eyes flicking between you and Callum, his smirk unmistakable.

“Subtle, Callum,” Austin remarks under his breath, and that’s when you realize.

Callum knows you like to be called good girl—and Austin is the one who told him.

Callum grins, his gaze knowing and assessing as he looks at you. “She is a very good girl, aren’t you, love?” he teases, leaning back in his chair, enjoying the way your cheeks flush with heat at the words.

Austin’s eyes flick between the two of you, his smirk deepening as if he already knows what’s happening.

But he doesn’t say anything more—he just tilts his head slightly, as if he’s waiting to see just how far Callum will push it.

Later that week the three of you dress up and head to dinner downtown, stepping into a restaurant that radiates quiet luxury, the kind of place where celebrities frequent, the atmosphere opulent and effortlessly exclusive.

Austin walks beside you, his hand settling at the small of your back, his eyes unable to leave you. He’s been like this all evening, soft smiles, lingering glances, the kind of attention that makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room.

The host leads you through the restaurant, past sleek candle lit tables, until you reach a private corner table with plush chairs, and a perfect view of the city skyline beyond the floor to ceiling windows.

You take a soft inhale, your lips parting slightly in awe as you take it all in. “Wow, this is so beautiful,” you compliment, seeing the city lights shimmering like diamonds in the distance.

Austin, pulls your chair for you, his fingertips brushing your waist as he helps you settle in. “Not as beautiful as you,” he says, his voice soft and sincere as he takes the seat beside you.

“You’re absolutely stunning tonight.” Callum adds taking his seat across the table, and you smile softly looking between them, the warmth of their attention sending a flutter through your chest.

“You two are going to make my ego unbearable,” you tease, but there’s no denying how good it feels to be adored by both of them.

As the waiter pours the first round of drinks, you settle into the moment, letting the atmosphere wrap around you as you enjoy their company.

“These past few days have been unforgettable,” you say, looking at them both. “I’ve really loved having you here, Callum. It’s been so much fun.”

Callum lifts his drink, his grin boyish and effortless. “That’s what I’m here for, love��keep things interesting.” he teases, then he pauses, his gaze drifting over you, lingering in a way that feels both playful and intentional.

“But between the three of us,” he muses, tilting his glass slightly, “I think you’re the one making this week unforgettable.”

Austin smirks, his fingers tracing down his glass. “The truth,” he murmurs, his blue eyes flicking toward you full of mischief.

You shake your head, but the way both of them are watching you makes a warmth settle in your chest. You grin, and for a moment as you sit between them, you feel it again—that undeniable pull, the unspoken energy tangling between the three of you.

During dinner, the conversation flows effortlessly, the laughter rising between bites of perfectly plated dishes. The wine keeps coming, no ones glass is ever empty for long, and with every drink, the energy around the table becomes looser, warmer.

Austin leans back in his chair, his arm stretched casually behind you, his fingers lightly tracing over your shoulder as Callum sits across from you, already a flushed, his grin a little wider, his words a little smoother.

Callum watches you just long enough for you to notice before tilting his head smiling. “You really light up when you laugh.” He says, his voice low and easy, but there’s something beneath it—something intentional.

You feel it—the weight of their attention as if the air between you all has shifted into something deeper, unspoken. Your gaze flickers between them, Austin’s thumb grazing slow circles against your arm, Callum’s eyes never leaving yours.

Austin’s gaze lingers on you, his blue eyes darkening just slightly, something unreadable flickering behind them.

“She does, doesn’t she?” he muses, his voice smooth, teasing.

His fingers press just a little firmer against your skin as he slowly leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

It’s effortless, intoxicating, and just when you start to drift into it, Austin pulls back only slightly, his breath warm against your lips, his gaze locked onto yours.

Callum watches, his grin lazy, almost knowing as he knocks back the rest of the drink.

By the time you arrive home, you barely have time to say “Good night Callum” before Austin is taking your hand and leading you down the hall to the master bedroom.

He pushes the door open with purpose, pulling you inside before kicking it shut behind him leaving Callum standing in the hall.

Austin’s is firm and unyielding as his body presses flush against yours and his mouth claims yours with urgency.

You barely have time to catch your breath before his lips are devouring you, his hands already tugging at the straps of your dress.

With one swift motion, he pulls it down your shoulders, his fingers trailing hot against your skin, as it falls to the floor leaving you in only lace panties.

His eyes drink you in, dark and hungry, his breath shallow and heated as his fingertips trace over your hips before gripping them possessively.

“You’re so beautiful,” he pants his voice tense with need and before you can react, he’s guiding you back, your legs feeling the edge of the bed as his takes you down onto it.

He settles at your waist his hands spreading your thighs apart, his weight pinning you just enough to keep you exactly where he wants you.

His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, yanking them down in one swift motion, his breath hot against your skin.

The first flick of his tongue sends a jolt through you, pleasure striking fast, your back arching instantly.

“Austin!” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets as the heat coils deep inside you, sharp and undeniable.

He doesn’t ease you into it—he devours you with intensity driven on every intent to wreck you.

His tongue moves in deep torturous strokes, teasing, pressing harder, curling, sucking, his mouth sealing over you as if he can’t get enough.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as you try to move—but there’s nowhere to go, no escape from the relentless onslaught of his tongue diving into you.

Your head falls back as you moan loudly, your body desperate, trembling as the pleasure coils tighter, sharper. He groans against you, the sound vibrating through your core, and your cries spill freely, breathless and needy.

He feels it—how close you are, how you’re teetering on the brink,and he only pushes harder, flicking his tongue faster, sucking deeper, his fingers digging into your skin as he pushes you over the edge.

And when you finally break, when your body shatters against his mouth, you moan his name as he rides out each wave, lapping up every bit of your arousal, dragging your pleasure higher, deeper, until you’re nothing but a trembling, mess beneath him.

He doesn’t waste a second as you lay there, breathless, he’s already undoing his belt, his movements urgent, almost frantic.

He shoves his pants down, unbuttoning his shirt in a rush, the fabric falling to the floor as he climbs over you, his body pressing on yours instantly.

His lips find your neck in hot open-mouthed kisses, his breath ragged against your skin as he sucks harder, deeper creating a bruise. You can feel his cock, thick and hard, pulsing with need, and before you can catch your breath, he grips your hips and pushes in to you all at once.

The shock of fullness has you gasping, your back arching, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

“Austin!” you cry out, overwhelmed by the sudden depth feeling the sheer intensity of him inside you.

He lifts his head his blue eyes burning into yours, his jaw tight as he restrains himself.

“Say my name,” he commands,his voice rough with need.

“Austin” you moan for him, and he pushes forward in deep, deliberate strokes, his hips pressing flush against you, his body pinning you in place. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust, doesn’t ease you into it—he just wants to feel you come for him.

His hands grip your thighs, pulling them apart wider as he drives deeper, his rhythm unrelenting. Moans spill from your lips over and over again, the pleasure building too sharp, too fast.

He tilts your hips, angling just right, his hips snapping, every thrust sending white-hot surges of pleasure ripping through you.

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing in tight, desperate circles.

“That’s it…baby…give it to me. Let me hear you …come.” He says his voice breathless with need.

Your voice is strained as you moan, barely holding yourself together. He watches every reaction, every spasm of your body, every shuddering breath—knowing completely what makes you fall apart.

And then it happens.

The tension inside you breaks the pleasure crashing over you in a surging waves, your body clenching tightly around his cock, your moans breaking into something raw, uncontrolled.

Austin groans, his head dropping to your shoulder as he fights through your release, enduring it, dragging it out, his thrusts harder, faster, his name still spilling from your lips, exactly how he wanted.

With a firm deep thrust, he comes, his abs pulling up, his moans breaking into breathless pants. His release pulses deep inside of you, his body rocking helplessly against you as he shudders through the overwhelming pleasure.

His breath is hot against your skin, his hips grinding slower, deeper, anchoring himself to you as his moans spill freely feeling the last waves of his climax overtake him.

When it’s finally over, when your body lays trembling beneath him, he doesn’t move instead, he strokes your face, his fingers tracing softly over your heated skin.

His thumb brushes your lower lip, his gaze searching yours, as his touch drifts lower, tracing over the curve of your jaw. “I love you” he says breathlessly.

You smile up at him stroking his jaw affectionately. “I love you too,” you pant, still catching your breath.

Austin exhales slowly, his fingers trailing through your hair, his eyes holding something deep, something unspoken. “There’s so much I want to give you,” he reveals, his voice low and thoughtful.

You blink up at him, sensing a shift, the weight of his words settling between you. “You already do,” you whisper, brushing your lips softly against his, completely unaware of the thoughts running through his mind as you kiss him.

The following night, you and Austin decide to make Callum’s favorite meal—shepherd’s pie and roasted vegetables. The kitchen fills with warmth, the rich aroma of roasted herbs and butter drifting through the air as the two of you work together, laughing and moving easily around each other.

When you finally set the dish in front of Callum, his face lights up, eyes gleaming under the soft glow of the dining room lights. “You’ve outdone yourselves,” he says, raising a glass to you both. “I might never leave.”

Austin grins, cutting into his meal. “You say that, but I know you’d miss London too much.”

“Maybe,” Callum muses, looking at you over the rim of his glass before taking a slow sip. “But I’m starting to see the appeal of staying in America.”

You glance at Austin, but he just smirks, his eyes flicking between the two of you before taking another bite.

“You know, Austin never stops talking about you when you’re apart,” Callum teases, his voice smooth, effortlessly confident.

“Really?” you grin, turning to Austin, who suddenly seems more interested in his plate as his cheeks tinge pink.

“Oh yeah,” Callum nods, his tone both playful and sincere. “Took me a while to realize he wasn’t exaggerating.”

A heat creeps up your face at his words, the air between you shifting, charged with something you can’t quite define—but Austin only grins as if this is all wildly amusing to him.

After dinner, the three of you settle into the living room, the soft glow of the film The Beach flickering across the screen, casting warm, golden shadows around the room.

You sit between them, nestled against Austin’s side, his arm draped around you absentminded tracing circles along your shoulder, as Callum sprawls out on your other, completely at ease watching the film.

Callum leans back, stretching an arm across the cushions behind you, his gaze flicking toward you with a smirk.

“Alright, be honest,” he muses his voice teasing, “Who do you think would take better care of you on a deserted island like that? Me or Austin?”

Austin exhales a quiet sigh, shaking his head, his voice smooth and knowing. “Callum, you’re setting yourself up.”

Callum grins wider. “No, I really want to hear the answer from her.”

You glance between them, your stomach flipping under the weight of their attention. “Austin,” you say, smiling, and he pulls you against him, pressing a kiss to your temple, his smirk deepening.

Callum laughs, undeterred. “Think about it though love. Who’s more resourceful? Hunting, gathering, building a shelter?…”

Austin grins in amusement, his blue eyes flickering with something more knowing. “Why would we compete to take care of her? He discerns, his tone suggestive. “When we could just work together?”

Callum chuckles in approval. “What, like a survival throuple?”

Austin grins. “Exactly, now you’re getting it.”

You roll your eyes shaking your head, but the way both of them begin to look at you sends a flutter through your stomach.

You’ve slowly begun to catch on that they’re planning something—you can feel it. The way Austin lets Callum push boundaries, the way Callum charms you at every chance… and the way Austin allows it all to happen.

On the final day of the visit you stand in front of the living room mirror, checking your out fit one last time, ready to head out for the night.

Callum, sits sprawled out on the couch, watching you with an easy grin, his eyes lingering , slow and easy, taking in every detail.

“You’re far too pretty to put up with Austin’s moods,” Callum teases as Austin groans, unable to find his favorite leather jacket.

You smile, brushing it off, but Callum’s confidence is unshakable.

“You know,” he leans forward, his voice dropping just enough to be enticing “If he gets into a really bad mood tonight, we can sneak off together, teach him a lesson for behaving that’ll make him never forget his manners.”

You shake your head grinning “You think you're the one to teach Austin a lesson on misbehaving ?” You counter.

Callum grins, slow and teasing. “Mmm I’d be so good at it.” He confirms.

You roll your eyes just as Austin finally finds his jacket, holding it up with a triumphant sigh.

“You two over there conspiring against me now?” he says, shrugging it on as he looks between you both.

“Maybe,” Callum muses, standing up and pulling the hem of his shirt.

Austin ignores him, adjusting the collar of his jacket with an exaggerated sigh. “Great. Now let’s get this over with.”

“The infamous Luis Vuitton Cruise show ” Callum muses, his grin widening.

Austin groans dramatically, already dreading it. “A high-end fashion event with nothing but paparazzi, practiced conversation, and people getting really into bizarre shit.” He exhales sharply.

Callum grins, completely at ease. “Oh, Austin I love that shit.” He confirms.

Austin shoots him a look breaking into a grin. “Of course you do.”

You smile enjoying their banter, and before you know it, Callum’s arm drapes around your shoulder smug and easy. “All I’m saying is, if Austin gets too grumpy during this, we can still sneak off together, yeah?” he says, his smile infectious.

You glance at Austin, waiting for his reaction but he just smirks, shaking his head as he grabs his phone. “You two are trouble.” He says, his voice amused.

The three of you step out of the car onto the stone entryway of the Salk Institute in La Jolla, the air crisp with ocean breeze, the sky streaked with hues of deep blue and gold as the sun begins to set.

The Louis Vuitton Cruise Show looms ahead, sleek and sophisticated, with floodlights illuminating the brutalist architecture, casting long, dramatic shadows over the crowd of fashion elites.

The atmosphere is filled with exclusivity, flashes from photographers, murmurs of stylists, and the ever-present hum of curated perfection.

Austin walks on your right, his fingers casually grazing your lower back as Callum stays on your left, looking effortlessly charming in his suit and tee, already scanning the scene with a knowing smirk.

You feel stunning, the pleated mini skirt Austin bought for you weeks ago moves with every step you take. Paired with your heels and a sleek top, you know you’ll turns heads the moment you step onto the scene especially with two handsome gentlemen escorting you.

And if you weren’t sure of it—Austin and Callum make it painfully obvious.

Callum’s eyes wander over your legs as he shakes his head. “You sure you want to take her in there, Austin?” he muses. “You’ll have to fight off half the room.”

Austin doesn’t even try to hide his smirk, but his gaze flicks down to your skirt again. He hasn’t stopped looking at it since you got in the car. And the way his eyes darken slightly tells you everything you need to know.

“She can do whatever she likes,” Austin muses, smoothly taking your hand in his. “Not my fault if people get distracted.”

Callum scoffs, tilting his head. “Austin you’re distracted.”

Austin huffs a short laugh, but doesn’t deny it.

As you approach the red carpet, your stomach flutters with anxiety, your pulse hammering in your ears.

The flashes of cameras are blinding, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and chatter, as celebrities and fashion elites move through the entryway.

Austin’s fingers tighten briefly in your hand, a silent reassurance, while Callum is at your side, adjusting the cuffs of his suit, looking completely at ease.

The photographers begin to call out, their voices overlapping—

“Austin! Over here!” “Look this way!” “Callum, give us a smile!”

You and Austin take the first set of photos together, his hand warm against your waist, his charisma in full effect.

He’s done this a thousand times before, his look effortless, and when he glances at you between flashes, there’s something else in his expression that shows his adoration for you.

Next, Callum steps up for his solo shots, his grin turning cheeky as he shifts between serious and playful poses. The energy around him shifts, he’s charming without trying, flashing a wink here, adjusting his stance there.

Finally, the three of you are called together, and Callum immediately changes the tone, stepping between you and Austin with an exaggerated flourish, wrapping an arm around both of you.

“C’mon, let’s give them a show,” he teases, leaning in slightly.

Austin shakes his head, clearly entertained. “You’re a menace.”

Callum smirks. “And yet, you invite me places.”

With one last series of flashes, the photographers thank you, and you step off the red carpet, the moment settling in.

Inside, the ambiance is even more exclusive. The Salk Institute’s brutalist architecture contrasts sharply with the elegance of the show. Spotlights cast dramatic beams over the sleek runway, the seats lined with luxury invitations perfectly arranged.

The three of you take your seats front row, surrounded by other celebrities, designers, and fashion insiders.

As the show starts, the Louis Vuitton Collection is displayed with sharp, avant garde silhouettes, intricate embroidery, and flowing structured fabrics.

Models strut confidently along the minimalist runway, the music pulsating through the space.

Champagne flutes appear before you, served on silver trays, and you quickly realize, you won’t have an empty glass the entire night.

Austin sits beside you, his arms resting across his chest, his legs crossed. He occasionally leans in, speaking softly against your ear, small remarks about the designs, the lighting, the people around you.

Callum is thoroughly enjoying himself. He sips his champagne slowly, watching the show with genuine appreciation, occasionally gesturing toward a look he likes. At one point, he nudges you, whispering, “That one, I could easily see you in that one.”

You roll your eyes but smile feeling a warmth spreading through your chest.

Between the rich ambiance, endless flow of champagne, and the presence of both men beside you, you can’t help but feel it—tonight is the beginning of something.

And by the way Austin keeps glancing toward you, and Callum’s smirk lingers just a second too long, you know they feel it too.

After the show when you arrive back home, the three of you step into the house, the cool air inside a stark contrast to the lingering warmth of the night.

The Louis Vuitton show had been an experience, intoxicating in more ways than one.

The endless champagne, the flashing cameras, the whispered conversations with designers and celebrities. And now, as you sway slightly in the dimly lit entryway, you realize just how much champagne you had.

A quiet giggle escapes your lips as you reach out, steadying yourself by placing a hand on Austin and Callum’s shoulders.

Austin smirks, catching the movement instantly. “Someone’s had a little too much fun tonight,” he says, his hands instinctively coming to your waist, steadying you.

Callum chuckles, his tone more matter of fact.“Or just too much champagne,” he teases, his eyes flicking over to Austin.

You exhale a slow breath, your fingers tightening slightly on their shoulders for balance as Austin kneels down first, his hands trailing over your calf before he begins unbuckling one of your heels. His touch slow and careful.

Callum follows suit, kneeling on the other side, his fingers easily working on the strap of your other heel. His thumb grazing along the inside of your ankle.

“You guys are —so nice,” you mumble, your voice slightly drunk as you look down at them.

Austin huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he slips the heel from your foot setting it aside. “Yeah? Keep sweet-talking us, baby.”

Callum smirks up at you, his fingers lingering against your skin a second too long, tilting his head slightly as he slides the second heel off.

Your cheeks burn under their attention, and you suddenly feel very aware of how intimate this is. The two of them kneeled before you, their hands on your legs, the air between you thick with something else.

Austin rises first, standing close, his hands smoothing up your sides, his blue eyes locked onto yours. “You okay, baby?” he asks, his voice low, intimate, a quiet promise lingering in the way he looks at you.

Callum follows, standing beside you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

They exchange a look—something silent, something intentional.

Your breath catches as you glance between them, the air in the entryway suddenly heavy, pressing in from all sides. The space feels smaller, the air charged under the weight of their attention.

“I’m okay,” you manage, though your voice is softer now, breathier.

Austin tilts his head, studying you, his gaze dropping to your lips then slowly he leans in and kisses you, his lips warm and soft, tasting faintly of champagne.

The moment Austin’s hand slides down your back, you feel Callum’s touch.

His fingers ghost along your waist, his breath warm at your neck before he presses his lips on you too, the contrast of them sending a surge of pleasure through you so impossibly good it feels sinful.

A quiet gasp escapes your lips, your body pressed between them as they move in unison—Austin claiming your lips, Callum kissing down your neck.

Austin’s hand roams lower, slipping past the waistband of your skirt, the heat of his palm pressing firmly between your legs.

He takes his time, his fingers moving with slow, deliberate pressure, teasing your clit through the fabric. He watches you closely, his lips hovering over yours, waiting for your reaction.

Your breath hitches, your body softening at the sensation, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

His hand slips into your panties, his fingers sliding over your slickness finding you completely soaked, your wetness coating his fingertips as he groans softly against your lips

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his gaze darkened as he easily pushes two fingers inside of you, watching every catch of your breath, every shiver that rolls through your body.

Your lips part in a soft moan feeling the press of his knuckles as his fingers settle deep inside, the pleasure immediate, undeniable.

The sound catches Callum’s attention, and he pulls back just enough to see your reaction.

Austin’s fingers move in slow, precise thrusts within you, his lips brushing against yours as he kisses you again.

Callum’s hands moves to your top pulling down the hem, his hand gliding over your chest before moving lower and cupping your breast firmly.

His mouth is hot against your skin as he lowers his head, his tongue flicking your nipple, drawing sharp gasps from you.

You barely have time to react before he draws your nipple into his mouth his tongue circling it with firm strokes.

Your breath stutters, your knees nearly buckling as Austin works you open from below while Callum takes his time above, both of them completely in sync, completely focused on you.

Your fingers grip onto Austin’s shoulders, then Callum’s hair, needing to hold onto something as pleasure swells inside you, making you weak.

You try to stay upright, but with every touch, every kiss, every press of their hands and mouths—standing becomes impossible.

Your knees tremble, thighs clenching around Austin’s hand as his fingers thrust deeper, slick with evidence of just how easily you’re surrendering to them.

Callum hums against your chest, his lips sucking your nipple firmer as his tongue rolls in slow, deliberate strokes. He groans as he sucks, pulling with greedy satisfaction, his teeth grazing just enough to send a sharp jolt of pleasure down your spine.

The sensation coils tightly inside you, winding you up, making your breath hitch in soft, helpless little gasps.

Austin watches you intently, his blue eyes dark, focused, enthralled by every shudder, every whimper slipping from your lips.

His free hand rests heavy on your hip, keeping you exactly where he wants as he begins to curl his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect place over and over until your body convulses around him. “That’s it baby—give it to us.” He encourages thrusting faster.

Your moan is barely a sound, more of a breathless, strangled cry as the pleasure crashes over you. Your thighs squeeze around Austin’s wrist, your body locking up as your orgasm tears through you. Callum pulls back just enough to watch, his lips parting as he sees how helpless you are.

“Just, look at her,” Callum breathes, his fingers sliding up your side as he takes in the way you tremble, your body consumed with pleasure. “She looks so fucking pretty when she comes.”

Austin slows the movement of his hand, dragging out every last moment before withdrawing his fingers now glistening.

He lifts them to your lips, watching as you part instinctively, tasting yourself on them.

“Good girl,” Austin praises, his voice smooth as he brushes his thumb against your lower lip, his eyes dark with intent.

Then he glances over at Callum, something unspoken passing between them before his gaze returns to you, heavy and full of meaning.

“Come to bed,” he says to both of you, his voice low and certain.

Your eyes widen, flicking to Callum, whose smirk deepens with knowing amusement as Austin offers you his hand.

Callum watches, waiting for you to decide—waiting for you to step into whatever comes next.

And as your fingers slide into Austin’s palm, Callum’s hand grazes the small of your back, the three of you heading to the bedroom together as you realize—

They’ve planned this all along.

Austin guides you and in and Callum closes the door behind you knowing this is exactly what they have been waiting for.

The bed dips on either side as the three of you lay down together.

The warmth of them surrounds you as Austin places a soft kiss on your left wrist and Callum presses against your right side trailing his lips along the sensitive skin of your shoulder.

The room is dim, but the heat between the three of you is undeniable. Austin’s hand trails along your arm, his touch slow and delicate, as Callum,breathes against you, his lips grazing your jawline.

“Relax for us baby,” Austin says, his voice low and steady.

Callum’s voice follows, softer, teasing. “We’ve been waiting all week for this,” he admits, his fingers tracing the back of your hand. “Tell us you want this too.”

Your heart races, your body humming with anticipation as you glance between them. Austin’s eyes are filled with something intuitive, something reassuring, but Callum’s are far darker, searching, waiting.

Austin tilts your chin up, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip. “We’ll only do this if you want to,” he admits, his gaze flicking toward Callum briefly.

Your breath is shallow, lips parting instinctively as your gaze shifts between them. “I—” Your voice catches, the reality of the moment crashing over you. “I want this”

Austin grins kissing you immediately, his lips pressing against yours with a reassurance that melts away any hesitation.

Then you feel Callum, impossibly close his breath ghosts over your cheek before Austin pulls back just enough to let Callum’s lips linger near yours.

Callum hesitates, watching you, as if waiting for permission. Austin smirks slightly, his voice playful but firm. “She’s already thinking about it.” He says.

Callum doesn��t need to be told twice, his lips collide with yours, different from Austin, hungrier, firmer, coaxing. The contrast between them sends a shiver down your spine, and when Austin’s lips move to your neck, your mind blanks completely.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” Callum murmurs against your lips, his accent thick and rough. His hand settles on your waist, fingers curling slightly. “Knew you’d be trouble.”

Austin chuckles against your skin. “She’s the best kind of trouble.” He says as his lips press just below your ear. “And now she’s ours.”

Callum’s hand slides over your waist, fingers teasing the hem of your shirt. “I want to see all of you.” He says.

Austin’s fingers brush your cheek before trailing down your collarbone, his voice a low murmur against your skin. “Let’s get you out of this, baby.” He says hooking his fingers under the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one smooth motion, the fabric slipping away effortlessly, leaving your skin bare to them.

Austins hands drift lower, tracing the curve of your waist before finding the hem of your pleated mini skirt. His fingers hook beneath the fabric, and with one fluid motion, he tugs down your panties and skirt together, the soft material gliding over your hip and down your thighs until it’s tossed aside.

Austin gaze darken as he takes you in and Callum leans back slightly, his eyes drinking in the sight of you filled with lust.

“Fuck,” Callum exhales, running a hand down your thigh, his pupils blown wide. “Austin, shes perfect.”

Austin smirks, his hands sliding down your sides. “I know” he says.

Callum’s hands join Austin’s, his touch unfamiliar but electrifying as he traces along your ribcage. You shiver under their attention, the feeling of four hands exploring your skin leaving you breathless.

Your hands reach for them instinctively, finding the hem of Callum’s shirt first. You slide it up, and he grins, before tugging it over his head.

The moment his chest is exposed, your breath catches—he’s even more defined than you expected, strong and solid, his skin warm under your fingertips. You run your hands over his broad shoulders, his muscles flexing beneath your touch.

Austin, pulls his own shirt over his head and tosses it aside. Your eyes flick between them, your hands touching both of them instinctively trailing over the contrast—Austin’s familiar, muscular form and Callum’s broader, slightly rougher build. Your fingers explore the dips and lines of their chests, the heat of them making your head spin.

“Do you like this?” Austin teases, his lips brushing your ear as his hands slide down your arm.

Callum smirks, watching your stunned reaction. “I think she does.” His voice dips lower as his fingers tilt your chin up.“But I want to hear you say it.”

Your lips part, your body already trembling under their attention. “I love it,” you whisper, your fingers pressing into their skin. “I love everything about this.”

Austin’s mouth lowers onto yours as Callum’s lips find the soft spot just below your jaw, and as their hands move over you, exploring, claiming, you realize just how much they’ve been waiting for this, and just how much you want it, too.

Callum moves closer, his breath hot against the nape of your neck. His large hands start at your waist, his thumbs pressing into the dips of your hips before slowly gliding upward, exploring the curves of your ribs and the soft swell of your breasts.

His palms are rougher than Austin’s, his touch more possessive, his fingers kneading teasingly. “You’re so soft,” he whispers, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You gasp against Austin’s lips as Callum’s fingers roll over your nipples, pinching lightly, just enough to send a jolt of pleasure shooting through you.

Austin smirks against your mouth, feeling the way you react. “You like this so much don’t you?” he teases, and you nod as his hand slides up, cupping your other breast firmly. The hardness of his cock pressing against your thigh telling you just how much he’s enjoying this too.

Callum’s hand moves lower, tracing over your hip, his fingertips skimming the space between your thighs. You whimper as he parts your legs slightly, his fingertips grazing against your heat.

“Fuck, she’s already so wet,” he groans, his voice laced with both awe and satisfaction.

He strokes slowly, gathering your arousal on his fingers then spreading it over your swollen clit in teasing circles.

Austin pulls back slightly, tilting your chin so you meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, filled with lust as he watches you tremble between them. “You feel good baby?” he asks softly, his thumbs stroking your chin.

Your breath is shallow, your body humming with pleasure as Callum continues to tease you. “Yes,” you gasp “I’m so good.”

Austin grins, his lips brushing over yours before he moves lower, trailing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your nipple.

Callum, presses his hard cock against your hip, his lips warm and teasing as he leans in to kiss you passionately. His fingers between your legs move with more purpose, pressing into you just enough to make you whimper.

“Listen to her,” Callum groans, his lips curling into a smirk against yours. “She sounds so fucking pretty when she moans.”

Austin grins, his tongue swirling around your nipple lightly. “That’s because she’s perfect,” he says, his voice vibrating against your skin.

Callum groans in agreement, his hand tightening on your waist as his fingers stroke deeper, each touch making you tremble more.

“She’s ours tonight.” Callum says as his fingers move with agonizing precision, his strokes slow and deliberate as he spreads your slickness over your sensitive clit before sliding down, teasing your entrance.

His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, “You’re so fucking wet you’re dripping for us.” His tone is dark, edged with satisfaction as he pushes two fingers inside you, curling them just right, pressing against a spot that makes your whole body spasm.

Austin hums against your skin at your reaction, his mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking lightly before flicking his tongue over the hardened peak.

His free hand cups your other breast, kneading gently, his thumb rolling over your nipple before pinching it lightly. His movements are slow, sensual, designed to draw every reaction out of you as he teases and torments, alternating between soft licks and firmer sucks.

Callum’s fingers work you open, his pace maddeningly steady, stroking deep, curling inside you with every thrust. His lips trace the line of your jaw as his fingers press against the perfect spot that has you falling apart as your hips writhe in pleasure . “I can feel you clenching around me. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You nod panting as your hips roll instinctively against his hand. As you begin to moan loudly Austin pulls away just enough to watch your face, his lips glistening as he grins in satisfaction. “She’s going to come.” He confirms.

Callum chuckles against your skin, as his fingers thrust deeper, his thumb pressing circles over your clit. “Come on, love,” he coaxes, his voice husky, his breath fanning against your cheek. “Let go for us. Let us see you come.”

Austin’s mouth closes around your nipple again sucking harder as his teeth nip lightly on the sensitive peak sending another surge of pleasure straight to your core.

The combined sensations are too much—Callum’s relentless fingers working inside you, Austin’s warm, wet mouth sucking your nipple, the deep, commanding sounds of their voices unraveling every last thread of your restraint.

Your body tenses, the pleasure cresting like a wave as a choked gasp escapes your lips.

Your thighs tremble as you orgasm your body shuddering from the intensity. “That’s it love,” Callum groans, his fingers not letting up, working you through every last tremor. “So fucking beautiful.”

Austin watches you with dark, hungry eyes, his mouth leaving your nipple to press hot kisses up your throat. “So perfect, baby,” he murmurs, soothing you as your body trembles between them.

Callum slows his movements, his fingers slipping out of you with a satisfied hum. He brings them to his lips, his eyes locked on yours as he licks them clean. “You taste incredible,” he praises, his expression full of sinful delight.

Austin smirks, kissing your lips softly, his voice full of pride. “And we’re just getting started.”

Austin presses one last lingering kiss against your lips before guiding you up gently, his hands on your waist as he shifts you to kneel in the middle of the bed between them.

Your body is still trembling from the pleasure they’ve already given you, your mind hazy, dizzy with arousal as Austin’s voice, low and firm, pulls you back into focus.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his fingers stroking lazy circles over your hips as he positions you between them. “You’re going to make both of us feel as good as we just made you feel.”

You’re delirious with pleasure, as they leave the bed to undress your body humming with heat as you watch them, unable to form words.

They’re movement are hypnotic as they pull off their pants and boxers.

Austin body is sculpted, carved from years of dedication, his smooth skin taut over his defined muscles. His cock stands thick and firm, flushed a deep, eager pink, the tip already glistening with precum. Hes impossibly hard, the veins along his shaft prominent and pulsing with need.

Callum, in contrast, is built broader, his chest and shoulders more solid, his thighs thick and powerful. His cock is darker, a shade richer against his paler skin, with a heavy weight to it, the curve of it distinct as he strokes himself, his grip tight.

They stand before you, both, naked both hard, both utterly focused on you. The air is charged with heat and anticipation, the weight of the moment settling in your chest as your thighs press together instinctively and Austin smirks catching the movement.

“You like what you see, baby?” He says as he kneels beside you on the bed, his fingers grazing along your jaw, tilting your chin up so you meet his eyes.

Callum chuckles lowly, his voice teasing as he settles on the other side of you, his body radiating heat.

“She definitely does,” he muses, his smirk widening. “You can see it all over her face.”

Austin runs his hand down the curve of your back, his touch soothing. “You look so fucking perfect like this,” he praises and as Callum touches you too they both trail their hands lower taking turns to glide their fingers through your wetness, spreading your arousal with slow, teasing strokes.

A soft whimper escapes your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by Callum as he tilts your chin up and kisses you hard, his lips demanding, his tongue slipping past your teeth with a hunger that makes your knees weak.

Callum brings his fingers slick with your arousal back around his cock, stroking himself firmly as he groans into your mouth.

Austin, hums at the sight, his fingers still sliding through your slickness, rubbing slow, teasing circles against your clit before slipping two fingers inside you again. “Fuck, baby,” he breathes, his voice thick with lust. “You’re dripping down your thighs.”

Callum breaks the kiss just enough to smirk, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “She’s ready for us,” he grins, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with heat and anticipation. “Aren’t you,love?”

You nod, breathless, barely able to think past the heat racing through your core.

Callum strokes his heavy cock harder his eyes watching you with a dark, knowing smirk. “You ready for me, love?” he asks, his accent making the words sound even filthier.

You nod and he grips the base of his cock, holding it steady as Austin slips his fingers from you to hold your waist. “Show us, baby,” he urges, his voice full of command and affection. “Make Callum feel just as good as you feel.”

Austin lowers you onto your hands and knees, your body still trembling from their touch, the heat between you all heavy with anticipation.

Callum smirks, his grip tightening around the base of his cock as he pulls your face closer. “That’s a good girl,” he murmurs guiding his cock closer to your lips.

Austin moves behind you, his hands sliding down your back, guiding you into position as he kneels behind you on the bed.

“That’s it, baby,” Austin murmurs, his voice laced with praise as he runs his hands over the curve of your hips, gripping them firmly. “You’re gonna take us both so well.”

Callum’s fingers tilt your chin up, his smirk deepening as he watches the way you kneel waiting for them. “Open up for me, love,” he says, with intent. “Let me feel that pretty mouth of yours.”

You obey, your lips parting and slowly he pushes the head of his cock in, warm and wet as your lips wrap around it.

Your tongue swirls around the tip before your cheeks hallow and you take him deeper. Callum lets out a satisfied groan, his hand tangling in your hair as he guides you, his grip firm.

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” he breathes, his hips barely rolling forward as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

Behind you, Austin squeezes your hip as he rubs his tip along your slick entrance, teasing you, making you whimper around Callum’s cock the vibrations sending a shudder through him.

“She likes it,” Austin reveals, rubbing his cock against you again, coating himself in your arousal. “You’re so fucking ready for us aren’t you, baby.”

You moan softly, pushing back against him, desperate for more, and that’s all the encouragement he needs. Austin presses forward, his thick cock stretching you slowly, filling you inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside you.

A moan escapes you, overwhelmed by the sensation of being taken by both of them.

“That’s my girl” Austin groans, his grip tightening on your hips as he begins to move, thrusting slow and deep, his cock hitting all the right places with every roll of his hips.

Callum watches the way your eyes flutter, the way you moan around his cock as you work him with slow, eager sucks. “Such a good girl,” he praises, his voice filled with pleasure. “Taking both of us like a dream.”

The rhythm between the two of them builds, the room filled with the sound of their heavy breaths, low groans, and the wet, lewd sounds of them fucking you at both ends.

Austin’s thrusts grow deeper, more intense, his grip on your hips tightening as he drives into you.

Callum’s hand remains tangled in your hair, his hips rolling as he matches the pace of Austin, his pleasure evident in every deep, guttural moan he lets out.

“You’re fucking perfect,” Austin praises, his hands sliding up your back, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts into you harder. “So tight—so fucking wet for us.”

Callum groans, his voice low and strained. “She loves this,” he breathes, his grip on your hair tightening as his hips jerk forward. “She’s so desperate for our come, aren’t you, love?”

You whimper around him, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure, your body shared between them as wave after wave of ecstasy roll through you.

Every movement, every thrust, every deep groan sends you spiraling further into bliss, your mind hazy, consumed by nothing but the way they both feel inside you, the way they own every inch of you.

Austin pace becomes unrelenting, his cock hitting the deepest, most perfect spot inside you with every thrust as you moan around Callum in bliss.

“Come for us baby,” Austin groans as his hand finds your swollen throbbing clit. “Make us all come.”

His fingers press in slow, relentless circles, amplifying the pleasure coursing through your body. The sensation is overwhelming, your walls tightening on Austin’s cock as your moans vibrate on Callum’s.

Both of their hips stutter forward, Callum’s grip tightening in your hair as he groans dangerously close to spilling over.

Your pleasure peaks as your body clenches tight, every muscle tensing as your orgasm crashes over you, forcing a strangled moan in your mouth around Callum’s cock.

The sensation is too much, too perfect, and Austin groans deeply, his thrusts faltering as he feels your wall tighten around him.

Your nails dig into the sheets being thrust hard between both of them as they use you to come, your mind blanking with nothing more than the overwhelming sensation.

“Fuck, baby,” Austin groans, his hands digging into your hips as he drives into you hard spilling inside you with a guttural moan.

Callum watches you, feeling the way you moan in pleasure as Austin comes inside you and that’s all it takes to send him over the edge.

His grip on your hair tightens, his body tensing as he lets out a deep, strained groan, his release thick and hot as he holds you in place and spills into your mouth feeling you swallow around his cock taking every last drop.

They both pull out of you at the same time, the room filled with nothing but heavy breathing, the three of you completely consumed by each other.

Austin lifts you back against him, his strong arms wrapping around you as his lips trail lingering, soft kisses along your neck.

His hands move lower to grip your hips, grounding you as his thumbs gently caresses slow, soothing circles over your skin, easing the trembling aftershocks still coursing through your body.

Callum leans in his breath still uneven as he brushes his lips over your jaw. “Took everything we gave you like you were made for us.” he whispers, his fingers sliding through your hair as he places a soft kiss.

“You were so fucking perfect, baby,” Austin whispers, his voice low and full of praise.

Callum smirks as he lays back against the pillows, his chest still heaving. Your body trembles, completely spent, your breath still coming in short, uneven gasps as Austin lowers you on the bed.

Every muscle in your body is weak, pleasure still pulsing through you in slow, rolling waves. Austin pulls you into his arms, his strong embrace wrapping around you.

His lips find your ear first, warm and soft, whispering against your skin. “You were incredible,” he praises full of affection. “So fucking perfect for us.” He says kissing you just below your jaw, then lower, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your neck, his breath warm as he soothes you with gentle touches.

Callum shifts against your other side, his body just as warm and solid behind you. His lips brush along your shoulder, slow and lazy, savoring every inch of you.

“You’re something else, love,” he murmurs, his voice rich with admiration. “Didn’t know you had that in you… but fuck, I’m glad I found out.” He grins, his lips moving in soft, teasing kisses along your shoulder as his fingers trace over your back.

Austin chuckles softly, tucking your hair behind your ear as he kisses your temple. “Tired?” he asks knowingly, his hand rubbing slow circles on your hip.

You nod weakly, barely able to keep your eyes open as exhaustion washes over you. “Mm-hmm,” you hum, melting into his embrace.

Callum smirks against your shoulder, his hand smoothing over your back. “Poor thing,” he teases, his voice laced with amusement. “We might’ve been a little too rough on her.”

Austin grins, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “No, she took us so well.” He says bringing the blanket over you and pulling you closer against him. “Just rest baby. We’ve got you.”

Callum sighs contentedly, his arm draping lazily over your waist as he nestles against your neck. “Yeah, sleep now love, because next round—I’m not holding back.” He grins.

“Guess we’ll have to keep her just between us.” Austin confirms and Callum hums in agreement.

You let out a soft, sleepy sigh, too exhausted to even respond, your body completely relaxed between them as you drift into the deepest, most satisfied sleep of your life.

END 💙💖💙

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[jakeywake]

Can someone anyone please right an Austin fic. I’m getting desperate over here 🤍🤍

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 2 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking.

word count: 4.5k

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Legs tangled in gray sheets. The lightning-quick flash of a silver dagger, held by a pale hand.

The images in the dream are more like fragments- impossible to discern and decipher. On the bed, asleep and vulnerable. . .

There’s you.

And then Feyd wakes up, heart hammering in his chest so hard he can feel it in his throat. Slowly his fingers crawl up, up, up the expanse of the bed in search of something. In search of warmth, of you. Nothing. He’s just as alone in his room as he was when he drifted off into sleep. He lays awake the rest of the night, tossing and turning with worry.

This dream felt more like a warning than just another disjointed nightmare. It felt real. He was used to having dreams every now and again which clearly depicted a future outcome. He saw you in his dreams quite often, more so once he was no longer a boy-child.

If someone thought to hurt you… he’d just have to hurt them first.

The customs you and your people practiced were completely different to those that were normal on Geidi Prime. You watched one of your ladies-in-waiting as she brought over another small bowl of sweet smelling bath salts, dumping it in and using her hand to properly dissolve them. For a moment you felt self conscious, running your fingers through your hair as you looked at their perfect complexions and shaved heads. What did they see when they looked at you? Someone beautiful and strange. . . or an alien?

Still, you would eventually have to disrobe and bathe. Pressing your luck and refusing their help would only solidify your place as an outsider. You were sure that whispers of your arrival were already spreading like wildfire, and it was almost guaranteed that no one was happy about it. An Atreides amongst Harkonnen’s? You were nothing more than a pariah on their industrial wasteland of a planet.

The air was even more acrid in your lungs than it had been the night before, and while the smell of the rose body oils and salts were thick and hazy in your room, you could still catch the scent of pollution. Already you missed the cool, crisp air of Caladan. You missed your horses, your parents and your brother to the point of pain. This was not where you belonged. Not here in Geidi Prime. Not here with Feyd-Rautha.

The urge to cry yourself hoarse was practically undeniable, and yet you somehow managed to resist. You were late to breakfast already, and surely the Baron was making some unsavory comments about your family and their taught “manners”. So you untied the front of your nightdress and shimmied out of it, letting the soft cotton pool at the ground beneath your feet. The women couldn’t help but gawk at the tiny imperfections they saw there- a beauty mark you’d had since you were a child, a scar you’d received while training with Gurney. You weren’t used to feeling so self conscious, and so you were quick to grab one of the women’s extended hands so that you could sit down in the murky bath water.

They rubbed floral smelling soaps into your hair and on your skin, making sure to handle you as though you were as fragile as porcelain. You wished they would scrub you raw. Even then they wouldn’t be able to cleanse you of your fears. You were in the hands of the Harkonnen’s now.

No one could save you.

“We are not very used to styling hair, my lady. It might not be to your liking.” One of the women said anxiously. The way that her hands shook as she gripped the hairbrush was not lost on you.

How cruelly were they treated here? Or even worse- what did she think of the Atreides family? What lies had they poisoned these people’s impressionable minds with? You didn’t care to dwell too much on such thoughts. Reaching out you gently removed the brush from her hands, flashing her the kindest smile you could muster before shaking your head.

“Leave this to me then. Why don’t you pick something for me to wear from my things?” Your bags were still packed, lying exactly where a few servants had laid them last night. You had denied every offer to have them unpacked for you.

Denial. You refused to believe that you were actually stuck here. This would never be your home. It couldn’t be.

“He’s not here,” Feyd was sitting at a long, slate-gray table by himself. The food on his plate had barely been touched, but he had busied himself with chopping the meat up into miniscule pieces, too small to even fit on the prongs of his fork. “If you were planning on trying to make a good impression, you can forget about it. He always has his food sent to his quarters.”

You thanked the two ladies that had shown you through the colorless halls under your breath, moving to sit on the other side of the table. At least eight chairs separated you from the Na-baron and it still wasn’t enough. You wished you were on an entirely different planet, lightyears away from the Harkonnen scum.

The room was practically empty aside from the large dining room table. No art decorated the walls or rugs to cover the floor. It was all cold, black marble with white accents.

“I don’t care, actually.” And you were being truthful. You didn’t care about getting on the Baron’s good side any more than you cared about getting on Feyd’s.

He smiled then, staring at you long and hard before licking one of his black painted canines. He was amused by the blase way you brushed off his uncle so easily. Indifference wasn’t something he was used to, especially not when everyone in the galaxy had tried so hard to get on their good sides. People tended to tread lightly as far as the Harkonnens were concerned. They were as wealthy as they were cunning.

“Be careful, little Atreides. Saying things like that might get you hurt around here.” His gruff voice was but a whisper now, and suddenly you felt as though there weren’t twelve feet of dead-air separating the two of you.

You had picked up your fork, ready to eat whatever bland food had been prepared for you, but froze at his words. Heat rose to your cheeks and you were quick to lean back in the ornate high-backed chair, the cool iron seeping into your back through your clothes.

“Do you mean to threaten me?” Your words were icy, tongue sharp and ready to give him a proper lashing.

“It’s not a threat, darling.” He was practically purring, reveling in the joy of referring to you whilst using a pet name. It suddenly looked as though a switch had been turned on, his eyes narrowing on you. “I know him far better than you do. He’s killed people for far less. Be careful.” There seemed to be something he wasn’t telling you. There was genuine warning in his tone.

A pause.

“Please.” And then he went back to eating.

So were you supposed to act gutted at his uncle’s absence? You picked up the fork and took a bite of whatever had been put on your plate. It wasn’t at all what you were used to. Even the food tasted. . . fake. The meat tasted like it had been pumped full of chemicals and was mealy in your mouth, like sand. Still, you swallowed despite your distaste and shoved the plate away from you.

“Who have you assigned to be my sparring partner? I’m sure that my father made your uncle aware that I train daily, correct?” If you didn’t physically exert yourself and blow off some steam then you were bound to get no sleep tonight.

Last night you had tossed and turned, unable to stay asleep when your body was constantly alerting you to possible dangers. Even now you were on high alert, eyes locked on the knife that sat on the right side of Feyd’s plate. Your own fingers danced towards yours it you watched. Waited. Worried.

“Training?” He tilted his head again, eyes narrowed in disbelief. You could almost see the cogs turning as he mulled over your words. “What good would training do you now? If there are any threats then I am here to protect you- that’s my duty as your husband.”

Ah, yes. Why would a woman train when she could just sit back and play the part of a perfect little wife instead? You could spit.

“Would you rather I just hunt down one of your servants and kill him for sport?” You hated that he was so good at getting a reaction out of you. Maybe you were acting too much like a brat, but you wanted to see him squirm. Seeing him mad must be better than seeing him. . . like this.

For a second he sat there, arms perched nonchalantly over the armrests of his chair, staring at you with a crooked smile. You jumped in surprise when a chuckle escaped him, the act itself so out of place, so surprising that all you could do was stare in horror. The chuckles soon morphed into frenzied laughter, and he was quick to lean back in his seat so that he could place a hand on his chest.

“Was that funny to you?” You spoke through gritted teeth.

He watched the muscle in your jaw clench and unclench with wild eyes, sucking in a deep breath in the hopes of calming himself. Still, to hear such a beautiful woman speak such hideous words. . . it was wonderful, bordering on perverted.

“If you do kill a servant, please make sure I’m there to watch.”

He was too busy watching your face to notice the knife that you slid into the sleeve of your dress. With a huff you stood up, your skirts dryly brushing along the ground as you started to make your way out of the large room.

“I require a trainer.” You tried to mimic your mother’s tone, straightening your shoulders as you turned to look at him.

Lady Jessica always had a way of commanding a room. She was powerful, your mother. You needed to channel that same power now.

“You’ll train with me then,” He stood up from the table, the height and build of him alone nearly causing you to take a step back. You’d forgotten how large he was. How formidable. “Consider it a wedding gift.”

This had you balking, mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of some way to refuse. He was already stalking past you though, ignoring whatever retorts you were bound to make.

“I recommend getting changed. . . Unless you want me to tear that dress to shreds.”

That awful, ugly, no good- 

“Bastard!” You whispered under your breath, wadding up your dress just to angrily toss it onto your bed. 

You sank to your knees, braiding your fingers into your hair so that you could give it a few good yanks. He was doing this to fuck with your head. All of this was calculated on his part, it had to be. Was it all just to get a rise out of you? Or did he truly want to try and hurt you? You couldn’t figure him out, and that boiled your blood. All Harkonnens were cunning, blood thirsty schemers. You wouldn’t put it past him to be unhappy with the marriage arrangement, choosing to resort to violence in order to end things. 

‘Now. Now is the time to strike.’ 

You’d already hidden the blade under the mattress of the bed. The Baron wouldn’t allow you to live if you killed his precious nephew, but you’d much rather put up some sort of a fight than be put down like a dog. After taking a few steadying breaths you somehow managed to pull on your trousers and shirt, your mind plagued with dangerous, dangerous thoughts. If the moment called for it you were certain that you could not kill Feyd in hand to hand combat. His skills with a blade was well known across the galaxy, and while you were more than able to defend yourself, you weren’t delusional enough to think that you could manage to beat him without using underhanded tactics. 

You’d have to wait until his guard was lowered. 

“Do all women take this long to get ready?” 

You hadn’t heard the door open, nor his footsteps approaching. Who knew how long he had been watching you. The intrusion was an unwelcome one. You looked up to glare at him, trying hard not to balk at his appearance. The clothes he wore were skin tight, a black material that caught the dim lighting- like it was made of pitch black oil. His pants were tucked into big black boots, laced up high on his calf. 

He stretched his arms up, leaning against the doorframe so that he could continue his awkward staring. 

He did a lot of that it would seem. Any time you turned your head to face him you found that he was already looking in your direction. It was odd. . . off putting to say the least. Of course you couldn’t know that he was currently tracing the lines of your face with his eyes, committing every detail to memory. You were so different when he compared you to the females that he was used to seeing. You were all soft lines, long lashes and doe eyes. He found it impossible not to look at you. Gorgeous… you were gorgeous. 

“It took me a while to get out of my dress on my own.”You shoved your way past him in the doorway, his chest warm under your palms. 

You were quick to jerk away, startled by the fact that this was the first time that you’d touched him since the two of you had reunited. 

You didn’t hate the feel of him, but you should have. 

“Then you should have asked for some help.” He said, reaching out to grab you by the back of your shirt when you started to walk off in the wrong direction. 

Feyd pulled you along like he would a pet on a leash through the triangular halls, ignoring your mumbled curses as you tried swatting him away. 

The shield vibrated in your ears as you switched on the button, enveloping you in its warmth. 

You used to find it uncomfortable as a child, the tight, foreign warmth triggering a mild case of claustrophobia. You were used to it now, wearing it like a second skin. You waited for Feyd to turn his on as well, the blade clutched tight in your palm. 

You waited. And waited. And waited. 

“Where’s your shield?” You asked him, motioning towards his hip with your free hand. 

There it was, that crooked smile again. He was laughing at you. Was he trying to infer that you were weak? Was he so confident in his skills that he didn’t even see you as a threat?  

“I don’t see the nee-” He didn’t get very far. 

You kicked your leg out, catching the back of his right knee. His legs buckled, and he was quick to adjust himself, his left arm flying up to catch your wrist before you could sink the blade home. For a split second the two of you just stared at each other. Mild shock in his eyes, your own alight with an anger so consuming that you feared you might be burnt up with it. He gave your arm a sharp tug, hard enough that the joint rolled uncomfortably in its socket. 

You kicked your leg out before he could throw you over his shoulder, landing a sharp blow to his ribs. You heard him let out a pained moan before you hit the ground. Using your weight to your advantage, you tucked your body in, rolling to the side so that you could easily stand up to your knees, blade poised at your side and ready for an attack. 

“You fight well, Atreides.” Feyd purred, spinning his blade between two fingers before letting it fall back into his pale palm. 

“Turn on your shield.” You growled, rising to your full height so that you could begin circling him, a panther ready to pounce. 

“Was it Duke Leto that trained you?” Still, he was ignoring your statement. 

“No.” 

“No, of course it wasn’t him,” He took a step closer to you, eyeing you down. No one had looked at you like that before. . . and it made your skin crawl. You didn’t want to be desired by this man, the thought alone was miserable enough to have bile rising in your throat. “Your father is too weak-spirited to ever train you himself, lest he accidentally harm you.” 

Your heart was beginning to pound in your ears now, vision tunneling. All you could see was Feyd. All you could imagine was the blade that you were currently white-knuckling sunk hilt deep into his chest. 

“How horrible it must be for Caladan to have a Duke so. . .  spineless.” 

You bared your teeth, and for a second you were sure that you would snap the hilt in half with how hard you were gripping your blade. You demanded blood for such an insult. How dare he. How dare he. 

“I should cut out your tongue!” You screamed, pointed the blade at him. 

‘Don’t come any closer’ you urged with your eyes, feeling the angry tears causing your vision to fog. A Harkonnen was insulting your father. He was insulting your family and now he was smiling at you. The bastard had the gall to smile and this time all of his teeth were showing. Wide, unabashed in his joy. He was terrifying. So much so that you felt your legs begin to shake underneath you. 

“But you’ll want to put this tongue to good use eventually.” His gravelly voice purred. 

“Silence!” And before you could even control yourself you were using the Voice. 

You might not be as talented as your brother when it came to hand to hand combat, but your mother had taken the time to teach you well. Feyd’s mouth snapped shut so hard that you heard his teeth clatter together. 

“One more word and I will gut you.” Your voice shook and before you could rethink your actions you were lunging forward, the blade cutting through the air. . . 

Aimed at his throat. 

He was quick to push your arm away with his forearm, and even with the shield up you could feel the bone shattering pressure he put behind the movement. He was stronger than Paul- stronger than even Gurney. He took advantage of the fact that you were put off balance and grabbed a fist full of hair, the shield around you flashing red as he pressed his blade as close as he could to the base of your throat. Your scalp exploded in pain, eyes watering as he gripped harder to yank your head back so that you were staring directly into his eyes. They held no malice towards you, even despite the fact that you were obviously trying to maim him. 

And then he leaned in closer. And closer.

“If I didn’t know any better then I would think that you were actually trying to kill me.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. You could practically feel the warmth of his lips against your skin as he spoke, your heart roaring in your ribcage. With your chests practically touching like this you could smell him.

 You’d only caught the scent of spice once in your life- and it was akin to bitter cinnamon. There was something else though, something more complex to it. Aromatic spices you couldn’t quite put your fingers on and. .  . the natural musk of his skin. 

“So you can speak again?” You managed to tease him through your pain, wincing as he brought you even closer against his chest. The blade that you clutched in your hand was now pressing against his side, the pointed edge digging into his skin. 

He didn’t wince, even when you put more pressure against it. 

“You think it wise to use the Voice on me in my own home, little girl?” He hissed as he pulled away from your ear, and the fire that was in your eyes was now mirrored in his own. 

Slowly you moved the blade away from him, the metallic clanging echoing around the room as you let it fall to the floor. Your palm hurt from the vice-like grip you had been holding it in. 

“Release me now.” You didn’t shy away from staring into his eyes, unwavering even when he pressed the blade even tighter, the shield vibrating louder and louder around you. 

He leaned in, even when your hands moved to press against his chest, willing him to give you space. You could barely breathe with him this close to you. His own knife clattered to the ground, and using his free hand he ripped the shield from off of your hip. The gasp that escaped your lips was uncontrollable. You could feel his breath on your lips as his eyes continued to swallow you up whole. 

They looked even bluer when you were up close like this, framed by long black lashes. For a split second you wondered what had become of that beautiful little boy you had met. Had Baron Vladmir beaten the beauty out of him? Or perhaps it had never truly been there to begin with. 

When Feyd looked at you, up close like this, all he saw was the object of his ever-present affections. Something yawned to life in his chest- the need to protect. All at once he felt wrong, disgusting and horrible for causing you any sort of pain. 

But you looked so lovely with those tears in your eyes. So much so that he gave your hair another small yank, a shuddered breath escaping his lips as you yelped in pain. He saw the hate in your eyes and he detested it. 

‘Fear me’ he silently urged. ‘Love me, do as I say and I will become your slave.’ 

His lips brushed against yours, achingly slow- painfully soft. 

“I yield.” You were quick to say, pulling as far back as you could even with the grip he had on your hair. 

Fire. Your scalp felt like it was on fire. 

And then he released you, taking a step back with a heaving chest. The spell now broken, it felt like the world around you suddenly resumed its orbit. Wordlessly he pressed a hand to his side- the side that you had pressed the knife- and when he pulled it away you could see that it was stained with blood. 

“Didn’t you say that you were going to gut me?” There was no hint of humor in his voice now. 

“I wanted to.” You conceded. 

“Then you should have tried harder.”

Again you lay in bed awake, unable to fall asleep. You told yourself that it was just homesickness that had you clinging to the blankets, but you knew better. What had happened today left you rattled and confused. 

There were a hundred times today that Feyd could have killed you. Everything that Gurney had ever taught you had disappeared like smoke in the wind the second that your father was mentioned. You had acted on instinct alone. 

And if it was an actual fight to the death then you would have lost. Miserably. 

There was something strange about it though. It never once felt like an actual training session. He taught you nothing and gave you no feedback. Not only that but. . . it never felt like he actually wanted to damage your pride. He didn’t turn on his shield before and after taunting you, almost as though he actually wanted one of your attacks to land. 

He had allowed you to get everything out of your system. You hated that it had worked. It wasn’t helping you to sleep tonight though. No, you had other things on your mind now. 

Like the fact that he had almost kissed you. 

Your knowledge was limited where men were concerned, but you were nearly positive that there was something sexual about the way that he had treated you. It was like he didn’t want to actually hurt you, but still went out of his way to touch you. 

You’d be sure to ask for someone that might be willing to train you again tomorrow over breakfast. Someone who wasn’t Feyd, preferably. Lunch and dinner had been spent in silence on your part tonight. He had tried to strike up conversation a few times, even baiting you in ways that might warrant annoyance and anger. You didn’t budge. Why? Because you hated how nervous you felt in his presence now. 

Was it because you were afraid of him? That had to be it. Hearing about his proficiency in fighting and seeing it first hand were two different things. He had practically swung you around like a ragdoll. It was absolutely humiliating. 

Yes, that had to be it. . . well, you hoped. 

“Atreides.” 

The sound of your name had you bolting up into a sitting position, willing your eyes to adjust to the non-existent lighting in the room. The sound of footsteps had your heart jumping up into your throat, adrenaline flooding your system once you realized that it wasn’t a voice that you recognized. 

No one had entered the room since you’d gotten back from dinner, which meant. . . 

Whoever this was had been hiding, waiting until you completely lowered your guard. You were in danger. Horrible, horrible danger. 

‘Be careful. Please.’ You remembered Feyd’s words from earlier. 

He had been trying to warn you.

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the wonderful line “fear me, love me. do as i say and i will become your slave” is from the movie “the labyrinth”!

[cosmictheo]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 | feyd-rautha

( gif credits to @wondrousashes )

—summary: on a calm day back at your home, you shattered away the serenity as you decide to confront feyd about his alleged concubines and the little secrets he seemed so cautious to hide, pushing him further and further to the edge. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 4k —warnings: arranged marriage, jealousy, a bit of implied smut (the actual smut is coming up in the next and last chapter !!!), mentions of sex, mentions of cannibalism, feyd being a slut for the reader (as he should), mentions of killing and death, hot and very passionate love confessions, definitely ooc!feyd.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

The week at Giedi Prime went by so fast that you hardly noticed any of it. The first day had been a bit slow and tedious, but the ones that followed turned out to be more than agreeable and enjoyable, Feyd-Rautha had been very concerned about keeping you entertained and as comfortable as possible, showing you every corner of the palace and walking you around the city.

But for now, you were back at your home for the last visit you would have there before becoming a Harkonnen. Feyd was staying close to you through all the reunion, naturally, diplomatically greeting your family.

“You met his cannibal lovers yet?” Paul's voice echoed inside your head between Feyd's conversations with Duke Leto, your gaze drifting to your brother in absolute alarm, horrified at the question and relieved that, so far, the answer was negative.

“There are rumors that tell how his concubines feed on the hearts of his dead opponents.” Your brother propelled you with the oh-so-cute information about your future husband. “The bastard has not one, but three. I guess you'll have to battle it out with them for his love, that was Duncan said.”

“Stop it, don't be an idiot.” You snapped back at him, averting your gaze from him to Feyd-Rautha, who was conversing ever so formally with Lady Jessica now.

You couldn't imagine him eating of human flesh, nor fucking three different women at the same time. Although, rumors always started from something and during the few times you had been able to get inside Feyd's head, you hadn't seen anything that was remotely pretty or light.

Paul's words managed to resonate in your head, lingering between the walls with a sense of suspicion.

Maybe that was why he never showed you the intimacy of his chambers... because on his bed lay three women compliantly awaiting for his attention and lust.

For some reason, the false image of him fucking them, bodies intertwined and interlinked, voices whimpering and moaning, made you feel respulsive, your guts twisting like a serpent.

You didn't want to believe it was jealousy, but again, your mind never wanted you to believe anything at all.

The palace of the Atreides stood majestically between rocky mountains, with the golden sunlight falling beautifully on the grayish stone walls, bringing in a warm afternoon. Rising magnificently behind your back, standing like a rocky guardian.

Your gaze was on Feyd-Rautha as you walked together along the outskirts balconies of the castle, your greenish dress swaying in the sea breeze, as did your hair, which you wore unusually loose that day, the sweet smell of it had him crazy.

“Do you like it?” You asked him after a few moments of silence, with a hint of a smile that Feyd noticed as he turned to look at you, noticing as well how you waited expectantly for his opinion of your home, which he knew you always held close to your heart.

After a second, he nodded his head, looking at you intently. “I do.”

His blue eyes, which looked as clear as ever under the natural glow of the place followed you as you walked beside him, keeping himself close to you, he could feel the natural warmth of your body and the sweet smell of your scent.

It was the first time you saw his eyes showing their true color, for back in his home, they rarely reflected so much brightness and his orbs glowed so beautifully in the sunlight. They possessed the most beautiful shade of blue, reminding you of the ocean, of home.

“It's nothing like my home.” Feyd-Rautha added in a more amused, lighter tone of voice, with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, lowering his gaze to the ground, noting how the grass softened each of his steps on it.

“Obviously. Caladan is everything that Giedi Prime and Arrakis are not.” You answered him, snorting the words out with a soft chuckle that was carried away by the wind, turning your head to look at him once you stopped at the edge of a greenish cliff after descending one of the many rocky staircases that rose up through the hills.

The sea stretched into the immensity of the horizon and the water was uncommonly calm, waves lapping the shore relentlessly. It was a calm and peaceful scene out there, quite the opposite of what you felt inside, as you felt a tempest of emotions raging in your soul.

“Have you been with someone else like this?”

There was another one of your little questions again.

And he pondered the answer, dragging his eyes as blue as the ocean itself in front of them, back to you.

But Feyd-Rautha was rather certain that you already knew the answer, that you already had it, you could tell by the way he looked at you and the way he addressed you. Because it was enough to be clear that he had never been this way with anyone before, he had never spoken to anyone like this and he had never been so pleased to be in someone's company, basically in his entire life.

“The only people I've ever had this close to me are my family or my enemies, neither of whom I think entertain my presence very much.” Was his reply, honest and respectful. His husky voice, in contrast to the graceful sea breeze was a pleasant and comforting noise to you.

His words were masked with a touch of amusement, as he used to do in the last days when he spoke to you, it seemed as if you brought back that inner child he had, a stranger who felt increasingly closer.

But even using that tone, his eyes told you that he was not lying, that he was giving you the pure truth.

Yet, somehow you were not satisfied with his response. And he knew it.

“Have you been with other women?”

Feyd drew in a breath, half-opening his lips, air hissing between his teeth.

“So I'm assuming you've heard about the rumors about me?”

And there he was, answering you with another question to challenge you back, to play with your head as he had grown to love to do during the short time you had been in each other's company. Your conversations always ended up being a game of back and forth, a game of a tension that would be cut with the least sharp blade.

“My future wife likes to guide what she believes by mere rumors?” He pressed further.

And as always, you exhaled the air held inside you, twisting your head slightly, looking at him with incredulous eyes. “These are not rumors, Feyd —I've seen it.”

His blue eyes narrowed as he walked closer to you, expression both intrigued and yet defiant. “What do you mean you've seen it? Don't play games with me now, woman.”

“Don't threaten me, man,” You squinted your eyes as you pronounced the word like poison, almost coming out like an insult. “I'm not afraid of you.” With your own response to his defiance, this immediately silenced him, stopping him in his tracks right in front of you, as you stepped closer to him, your presence growing menacing now. You were really upset. “Do you think that when I marry you I will allow you to go on screwing around with them?”

“You met them and they threatened you?” Feyd asked in a low tone, maintaining a calm demeanor, though he wanted to know if any of his concubines had dared to even glance at you during your stay at Giedi Prime. His orbs reflected a sensation that ranged to a murderous, bloodthirsty urge, not at you, but at anyone who was stupid enough to threaten you. “Tell me, did they say anything to you?”

You crooked your head very slightly, looking genuinely offended by his questioning.

“Do you think I would allow any of your concubines —anyone at all— to threaten me and go on with their lives?” You replied instantly, looking him up and holding his gaze, as brave as ever. You seemed to be the only one in the whole universe who dared to answer him and put him in his place. And he was loving it, he felt the desire to be broken by you, to let you destroy all his walls and reach his soul. “They'd already be dead if they did.”

An amused grimace twisted his lips, gaze darkening with pride, desire even, approving of your words, feeling suddenly small under the vastness of your aura, dark and menacing now.

“Don't worry about them.” His words sounded humorous this time, just as his fingers laced between yours, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, an attempt to reassure you. “Soon I'll be all yours, sweet girl.”

You frowned your brow slightly, as did your lips, still looking offended. He squinted his eyes, hissing as he realized he had said the wrong thing, yet again.

“I'm not sweet.” Your hand released his, your annoyance rising with the seconds. “I'm not one of your pets you can treat as sweet, Feyd-Rautha.”

He raised his brow, following you with his gaze, puzzled, as you turned around and began to walk back to the palace, turning your back on him and leaving him to talk alone.

“One of my pets?” He questioned, with that amused grimace plastered on his mouth again, as he began to follow your hurried footsteps, his pale face reflected a blend of frustration and irritation. “Do you think I would treat you like one of my pets?”

His voice sounded so husky and frustrated and delicious that you felt like just stopping and jumping on him right there. But your own self-respect and pride were more important, you wanted to believe.

Seeing that you weren't planning to stop, Feyd tried to stop you by grabbing your arm, but his hand remained over your smooth skin, with no major result in trying to calm you down, so he cleared his voice, making the attempt to be as cautious and reassuring with his words.

“I think you must understand that desire and lust is something we all possess, my lady, not just men.”

He was physically relieved when you stopped to be able to look at him, with his hand lingering on your forearm.

But your eyes were still dark with discomfort when they met his once again. “I won't be one of your girls, Feyd-Rautha.”

His lips parted, brow furrowing slightly, his voice kept low. “(Y/N)—”

He stood right there, utterly speechless, with his voice caught in his throat, watching you walk away from him, striding with steps that exuded pure anger up to your rocky palace. His hand dropped from your arm and returned to his side, now far from your warmth and heartbeat.

It took Feyd-Rautha a couple of minutes to pull himself together, sighing heavily, a small smirk curving his lips as he began to walk the path back to the Atreides' palace.

He was absolutely thrilled to discover this side of you that he hadn't previously seen. You were truly frightening and he was loving it.

By the time the moon was bright in the center of the dark sky, shining through the thickness of black, a pair of soft knocks sounded against your chamber door and you didn't have to use any hint of your skills to know who it was.

He looked at you with those now dark blue eyes from across the threshold, arm resting lightly against the grayish stone. He looked strangely troubled, look shadowed.

“Have you always been such a perfect seductress?”Feyd asked you just as you made a questioning gesture with your head. “How many men have you seduced like this?”

You looked him up with doubting eyes, frown slightly furrowed. “What are you talking about—”

He interrupted you in a scratchy voice, fearing somehow, that someone else might hear him, that someone else might witness how desperately vulnerable he was being, for you.

“You've broken me. All I can think about is you.”

Feyd took one step forward and you one step back, so you two moved as if you were in a kind of dance until he eventually entered your chambers, pulling the door shut behind him.

“I can't handle not touching you. It's a rule I'm on the brink of breaking for you.” He whispered and your breath caught in your throat, exhaling air in a stuttering gasp. “And I should— I'm expected to be a gentleman. I'm supposed to behave myself, keep my composure. But you… you are driving me crazy, woman, you play with my head, you've bewitched me.”

You could really see that he was trying to explain himself for you, attempting to articulate everything that was going through his head and you knew that it was very unusual for him to speak out loud about his feelings. And now, you were the one who couldn't say anything at all.

It was true, the most important rule your mother had emphasized to you was that you were not to get involved sexually, or in any way with your betrothed, until the very day of the actual wedding, as that particular night was meant to be consumed.

“Y—you shouldn't be here, my lord.” You managed to utter out after a few hesitant stutters, feeling your back brush against the wall and having him in front of you, trapping you against his body. He seemed to be struggling against his body, against his desire and instinct, hesitant hands twitching at his sides, nearly reaching out instinctively for your body.

“You were so bold back there talking back to me, what happened now? Aw, what happened, pretty?” He asked in a more teasing tone of voice, holding your gaze. “We could put that mouth of yours to good use then, hm?”

“My lord—”

“Call me by name.” He demanded, he begged you, whispering.

“Feyd...” You named him so obediently that it made him smile darkly to himself. “Someone might listen.”

“Are you afraid that someone will find out that two people who are getting married desired each other?” Feyd asked, half-closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose, as if trying to compose himself, trying to convince himself more than you. “There is nothing wrong for a husband to crave for his wife, right?”

You gulped, and his eyes instantly landed on your throat, watching as bone and muscle moved beneath the flesh, his tongue twitched, aching with all his will to be able to just lick the skin of your neck.

“I guess not.” Your voice trembled even when you were trying extra hard to sound confident and certain. “But we are not yet husband and wife.”

“Soon...” Feyd muttered, almost as if he was making a promise, uttering a vow.

His eyes closed as he finally rested his forehead against yours and suddenly, you were breathing from the same air. His trembling breath was warm against your lips and his scent was everything you could have ever craved... and it felt so familiar that your soul seemed to shudder, like something you had smelled all your life, something that had haunted you even in dreams, forever present but yet always so far distant.

“Can I touch you?” Feyd breathed out against your mouth after a few moments.

You didn't answer him verbally, instead you slowly took his hands between yours, fingers placing them in parallel against his, allowing you to feel every inch of the imprint drawn on his fingertips as you dragged yours across his palm, both feeling the size difference.

Then, you rested his big, calloused hands on your waist, allowing him to touch and hold you as much as he wanted and to permit him to do so, a single sight on your eyes was all it took.

He hissed as his hands molded the curve of your waist and instantly afterward drew you into his body, pulling you fully against the wall behind you. Your back arched instinctively and you gasped too, so softly, your chest pressed against his with the motion.

“Touch me.” Feyd-Rautha pleaded, he had never pleaded so... desperately for anything ever in his life.

That was your allowance for your hands reaching for his body, out of control, one making a slow path up through his strong arms while the other rested against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palm, beating echoing your own. Your fingertips gently patted his muscles, recognizing his skin and his body. You got the abrupt urge to claim it as yours. To claim him.

You felt yourself blushing at all the overly imaginative and lustful images of him invading your head.

His nose brushed against yours, nuzzling it affectionately, still without opening his eyes, as if he were in some kind of dream from which he didn't want to wake up. His fingers caressed your belly, tracing a slow caress across your entire abdomen upward, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you against him.

His touch triggered an immediate reaction across your flesh, skin shivering under his fingers.

Feyd whispered your name like a prayer, like a thirsty man, crawling and screaming for water.

“I'm trying to be good...”

“Don't be.” You whispered back, almost begging, looking up at him, gaze meeting his once he opened his eyes. “Please, Feyd—”

Then finally his lips landed on yours, initiating a kiss that you both craved so much, maybe he more than you for the way he brought you close to him, almost possessively, like a mad man, almost as if he was imprinting his mark on you, marking you for whoever had the courage to look at you.

He let himself sink in the way your lips fit against yours, in the warmth your body offered him, in the all too familiar sensation he could sense in every single fiber of his core from the kiss, your kiss.

Feyd-Rautha felt like a roaring beast just unleashed, ruthless and insatiable, just like when he walked into the arena, eager to kill, rooting against his opponents —and now he was rooting for you, to be near you, to intertwine his soul with yours, to claim you as his own.

And claiming you he was, his scent covered you all over now, making you feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, throbbing crotch, blood seething like an infernal flare. Anyone who came near you would not only smell you, but him too, on every inch of your body. His hands roamed just under your breasts, rubbing across your ribcage and sliding down your back, fingers just barely grazing your ass, pressing you tightly against him in desperation, grasping and squeezing as much of your tender flesh as they could.

Your own palms roamed up his chest, caressing his broad shoulders, all the way up to his neck, tugging him closer to you in desperate motions, impossibly close.

When your bodies begged for oxygen, you broke the passionate kiss, leaving you both breathless. He kissed you once more, allowing you to breathe just for a few seconds before all you breathed was him. He wanted to become your oxygen, something indispensable to you, something you needed to live with, a necessity.

“You're the only one.” Feyd-Rautha mumbled out as his hot and soft lips trailed down a wet path all the way to your neck, tracing the line of your jaw with sloppy kisses, each time his lips pulled back from your skin a wet noise echoed and filled the room, making you gasp.

You could feel the way his lips were modulating each word against your skin, as if using a language so intimate and so tight that it took your breath away. A language known and used just between the two of you.

With desirous eyes he looked at the dark crimson mark he'd left on your throat before raising them across your flushed face, his hands cradling your jaw, thumbs caressing your skin tenderly.

“When my uncle gave me the announcement that I was to marry you, I kicked them all out.” He continued to explain, pecking your lips a couple of times before kissing each cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, every single feature of your entire face, with the utmost care and adoration.

No one had ever looked at you the way he was looking at you right now.

Feyd rasped out a small chuckle, breath warm tickling against your nose. “And by kicking them out I mean I killed them.”

His comment didn't surprise you at all, in fact, it didn't even provoke a reaction in you. During the week you had been in his company, you had already gotten used to Feyd-Rautha's -almost cruel- honesty and sassy remarks, you were just starting to get used to his very eccentric and unique attitude. Because the na-Baron's personality was something that was most captivating to you, he was so different yet so similar to you.

“Of course.” You replied, trying to hold back that dark grin on your lips, an action that caused him to kiss you once more, his attention was on your mouth the whole time as you spoke to him in that tone of voice. “I would expect nothing less from the Feyd-Rautha and for my future husband.”

Again he rested his forehead against yours and you were the one who kissed his lips this time. It had become a reassuring habit in a span of less than five minutes for both of you.

“I can't do anything to you until we get married, my uncle would find out otherwise. I have —we have— to behave, my love.”

He seemed to read your mind this time, or maybe it was the way you were looking at him, biting your lower lip gently, eyes darkened with desire, silently begging him to just take you right there against the wall when he called like that.

Perhaps Feyd-Rautha was a hopeless romantic just like you or he simply desired you in ways that went beyond mere sex or plain lust.

“Are you afraid of him?” You softly asked him, your fingers stroking the back of his neck, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Your fingertips followed the trail of one of his veins marked on his neck, making him gasp lightly.

“Have you seen him?” Feyd responded with another question, a curved little smile on his lips, his tone of voice directed pure sarcasm. “I don't think I'm in such a position as to challenge the Baron.”

You nodded your head, fingers stroking his cheekbones now, tapping the moles that spread across his face affectionately. “He's terrifying.”

Your heart seemed to melt as you watched him close his eyes and lean against your hand, kissing the palm in action.

“Mhm...” Feyd hummed, watching you attentively, as if he was memorizing every inch of your face. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of amusement.

“Were you seriously jealous of my darlings?”

Your heart seemed to drop to your stomach and burn with your guts as you heard the nickname fall from his mouth.

“Call them that again and I'll cut your throat.” You murmured against his lips, kissing them slowly before pulling away from his body, looking up at him with dark, yet playful eyes, your hand roaming across his chest until it fell to your side as you stepped away. Then you made your way towards your bed with a very slow pace, under the attentive gaze of his azure eyes following every movement of your hips.

His heart —apparently non-existent until then— was pounding like crazy inside his chest as his lips parted, for once again you had left him speechless.

That was living proof that you were simply made for him. And he for you.

And maybe that just meant you were each other's weakness, people would say so.

But he felt just invincible in your presence, as if your company made him behold the whole universe, gave him the power of the all galaxy at hand, making him feel like the only man in existence. Your man.

Feyd-Rautha had never felt so desperate to make you his wife and finally call you his.

[eraenaa]

Bittersweet

Inspired by the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier

Feyd- Rautha x Lady Reader Tag List

Summary: As the Na-Baron's proposed bride, you were simply too sweet for him and his bitter being. You were too innocent and pure to be tainted by the blood-stained hands of the Harkonnen heir.

Warnings: Sunshine x Grumpy Trope, Mature, 18+, P in V sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex (F receiving), Fingering, Overstimulation, ¿Slight Rejection?, ¿Softer Feyd-Rauth?, Not Proofread

Word Count: 4,607

They say you were of great beauty and good breading, all things needed in a wife. Feyd-Rautha never sought out a love match; all he needed was a wife whose womb was suitable for taking his seed and producing his heirs. He saw meeting you as a dire chore, having to travel to your planet and seek out and court the girl whose task could be reduced to a simple broodmare. Feyd-Rautha grimaced at the bright sun on your home planet, a planet that resembled ancient Earth before it ultimately met its demise. Your father, the duke, stood with his duchess to greet and welcome him. He turned to your mother, a small fake smile on her lips as she was trying hard not to let her distaste show as she saw the man who they planned to marry her daughter too. Sickly pale and hairless, far from the standard of beauty your planet had. 

“Na-Baron, welcome; we hope your journey was well,” your father greeted. The Na-Baron let him continue on with pleasantries as his eyes searched for you, whom he was tasked to court and marry. He wished to know if you were truly as beautiful as all had praised you. He wanted to deduce if you were somewhat worthy of all of this trouble he must go through. “Come, let us escort you inside, my lord. My daughter waits for you there,” He heard the duke say, and the Na-Baron felt annoyance at your self-importance, not even bothering to greet him as he had landed, having him be the one to come to you. He somewhat made up his mind that you were a spoiled child of one of the great houses. Covered in frills and frivolity. That whatever beauty they talked about and praised you for was just a cover to hide the fact that you were a tempestuous, spoiled brat who would certainly be a difficult wife for any lord. 

Feyd-Rautha hid his confusion and annoyance as he was led to a place surrounded by greenery and colors that stung his eyes foe be was used to the bleakness and darkness of his home. “My sweet,” The Na-Baron heard your father call, and that is when he finally noticed you. Your back was turned from him, hair that he had none cascaded down your back and reached your waist that was cinched inside the bodice of your color-filled gown. Feed clenched his jaw and felt his breathing stutter as you finally turned your direction to him. Turning to the call of your father with your bright eyes searching for his frame and pink lips parted, you had a flower in your hand, your fingers rolling the delicate stem. 

“Na-Baron, may I present you, my daughter,” Your father said and urged you to step closer. You licked your lips and curtsied lowly before the heir of house Harkonnen and your possible husband. “Welcome, Na-Baron,” You said lowly. Feyd was never one to be phased, especially not stunned, but that was the precise state you had placed him in. He thought the praises they gave of your beauty and nature was an exaggeration— they talked about you as if you were a propaganda, a savior, a goddess of beauty. And now, the heir of House Harkonnen understood their words and saw they spoke truth in every syllable uttered. 

You grew more nervous with each moment the Na-Baron did not reply to your greeting. You felt rather unnerved with each passing moment he stared you down with his blue eyes, his plump yet pale lips parted as he assessed your frame. You swallowed thickly and turned to your father for some sort of comfort, but he, too, did not know how to take the Na-Baron’s silence. “My lady,” the Na-Baron finally rasped out, your skin glowing with gooseflesh at how his voice sounded— it was a sound you had not heard before, something different and interesting. All together, the Na-Baron was different and interesting. “I shall leave you two to talk and get to know each other better,” Your father said, and you willed your heart to calm as the intense stare of the Na-Baron was undoing your composure. 

“How… how are your travels, my lord?” You asked after a pause of silence, the Na-Baron wanted to roll his eyes as you had the same trite question as your father. However, he still replied. When there was silence after his answer, he watched you fiddle with your fingers and unconsciously bite your lip as you thought of another topic of conversation. “Would you like a tour of the castle, Na-Baron?” You asked, and though Feyd had little to no interest in architecture and was actually quite tired from his travels, he still felt himself nod and walked beside you as you guided him through your home. 

Feed listened to your sweet voice that sounded of harmonious melodies. Telling him of the history of your house and the decor the castle keeps. Noticing how your voice would grow slightly higher when you spoke of something that was of much interest to you. He also noticed how all who passed the two of you would bow in respect and you would offer them your sweet smile with a wave of your hand or a greeting on your lips. It should annoy him that when stood next to you, his imposing and intimidating demeanor seemed to be outshined by your charming and pleasing self. 

You two paused by a mirror, a painting atop of it, which you explained the meaning of in great detail. Feyd-Rautha caught your reflection, the two of you of stark difference. There was quite literally an aura of lightness exuding from you, the sweetness in your voice, the innocence and naivety in your eyes so entirely different against the darkness he exudes, the black that stained and hardened him. Feyd-Rauth could not take his dark eyes from your lips, the way they moved as you spoke, how you would lick them when you paused from speaking, giving them an irresistible sheen and making them look more pink and evermore kissable. 

The Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha never had the urgent desire to kiss anyone before. Yes, he had his darlings and concubines, but ever since he acquired them, he had never once kissed them first. When they started to grow slightly comfortable around him, they would kiss his lips, eager to make him kiss them back, but he never did. He did not find any sort of pleasure in kissing them. But with you… just by the look of your lips, all he wanted to do was grab your flushed cheeks and feel your mouth against his. “My lord?” You called as you had noticed that the Na-Baron was staring far off into the mirror, unresponsive to your previous calls. “Na-Baron?” You asked and gently took hold of his arm to asses if he was truly well. 

Feud felt his whole body tingle as you placed your touch atop his armor-clad arm, a concerned look on your face that he had never been the receiver of. “Are you well, my lord?” You asked with a concerned tilt of your head. “Y-Yes,” He stuttered, what had you done to him? The ferocious and fearsome fighter that he was now far gone as you blessed him with your gentle touch. “I apologize; I may have droned on for too long… I shall escort you to your chambers so you may find rest,” You said with slight embarrassment. Lowering your gaze to the floor and removing your hand from his arm. Feyd did not know how to perceive you… you were demure yet somehow confident. You were genuine, yet not at all of you could be read and deciphered by him. 

The Na-Baron once again followed you as you led him to the guest wing of the keep. His eyes were steadily at your frame, the way your hair swayed and bounced at every step you took. How you left behind a trail of your scent in the corridors, the Na-Baron greedily inhaled it and felt himself turn warm with a further push to his desires. As you had led him to his chambers to let him rest, you curtsied before him once more, the Na-Baron catching the most tempting view of your bosom. His mind and body were screaming at him to pull you into the chambers and have his way with you. To show you new dimensions of pleasures and ruin that he was certain you had never had before. But the Na-Barom did the genteel thing to do and gave a bow before watching you walk away and finally retire to his own chambers to rest. 

When the next morning came, the Na-Baron found you in the gardens once more. You kneeling by a structure that houses water with a statue in the middle of it. He curiously leaned forward to inspect what you were doing. He watched as your fingers pushed floating flowers, and a small smile grazed your face. He stepped closer, announcing his presence in the reflection of the water. He expected you to grow startled; he was waiting for the fear to come to your eyes, but he was taken aback as you turned to him with a pretty smile upon your lips. The Na-Baron swallowed thickly as he felt his heart stutter at your smile. He never thought he had one— a heart, that is. But now it announced itself greatly as it throbbed loudly in his chest when you stood and stepped closer to him. 

“I hope you had a good night’s rest, Na-Baron,” you said in your genuine tone. “I—I did,” Feyd clenched his jaw; he was stuttering again. What had you done to him? How could you have dismantled and discombobulated him with just a smile and your honey voice? “Would you care to join us to break our fast?” You asked and glanced toward the direction of the laid-out feast for the morning. The Na-baron gave a curt nod, and you led him towards the table where your parents were approaching. 

Feyd gave them a nod as they greeted him whilst assisting you into your seat. He was truly doing the most here, being obliging to you and your kin just so the courtship would be a success and he’ll finally gain a wife and a womb. Feyd listened in to the chatter between you and your parents; you were truly quite talkative. If it were anyone else, he would have grown annoyed with the incessant blabbing that he would cut off their tongue. But somehow, with you, he did not mind it. He actually found it endearing, and he wouldn’t mind for his future days to be filled with your voice. Feyd watched as you filled his cup with a dark, steaming substance. “Would you like sugar and cream, Na-Baron?” You asked and Feyd eyed curiously the liquid in his cup. He did not even know what it was, and you were offering him other substances to put on it? He declined and raised the cup to his lips. Surprised at how he quickly grew fond of the bitter, dark liquid. He watched as you added three cubes of sugar and a dollop of cream to your own cup, altering the bitterness the Na-Baron relished in. 

When the meal ended, you half expected that the Na-Baron would disappear with your father and discuss business; you were surprised that he was once again by your side. “Shall we continue on with the tour?” He asked, watching as you slightly frown. “Are you certain, my lord? I… I was afraid I had bored you yesterday with me droning on about the histories,” You say and feel your stomach fill with butterflies as the lord offers his arm for you to take. “No, I found it quite… educational,” He said and oddly felt his cold blood run warm at the smile that bloomed on your lips. You were quick to oblige his request, and his ears were filled with the soothing melody that was your voice. 

Though your voice and presence were soothing, there was a pestering feeling inside the Na-Baron. With every moment you kept your arm on him, your smile pointed towards him, and your innocent eyes looking up at him, he felt entirely guilty—guilty and torn. Were you truly the one he was meant to marry? You? So pure and innocent, a pretty little flower that would wilt under the dark, harsh sun of Geidi Prime and its heir. He could not take it upon himself to be the one to ruin you— he could not be the bitterness that seeps into your sweetness. 

As he sat across from you during dinner, a glass of bitter liquor in his hands, he had made up his mind. He could not be so cruel to be with you— you had turned his stony being soft for you and you alone. He wanted you, yes. Greatly so. With every moment spent in your presence, all he wanted to do was to take you and make every single inch of you his, but he placed great restraint upon himself as he could not tarnish your innocence. Perhaps in a few years, when the naivety of youth is gone in your eyes, and the sweetness in you has finally been diluted. Just not now.  

Feyd knew he should keep his distance, but he humored himself and escorted you to your chambers. “Good night, my lord,” You said, peering up at him. As always, he was silent. In others, you would find their silence unsettling and off-putting but with the Na-Baron, you found peace in his silence. Serenity, no matter the warnings your mother repeated at how violent and harsh Harkonnens were. There was something about his difference that attracted you greatly, which horrified your mother when you admitted to her that you developed a liking towards the young lord and how you would not be opposed to that if a match was struck between the two of you. 

You watched as his lips parted, and his dark blue eyes would trail between your orbs and your lips. You were hesitant as to where the scene would lead; you did not know if you should disappear into your chambers or stay rooted in your spot and wait for what would transpire between you and the Na-Baron. A long stretch of silence came, and you finally decided to move, a tad embarrassed as you had hoped that he would lean in closer and possibly kiss you… you have had the thought countless of time today. You let out a breath and turned away but ultimately were pulled toward Feyd-Rautha’s direction and finally felt his plush lips against yours. You tasted the bitterness of the brandy he had during dinner along with the cool taste of him… you feel cold hands cradle your cheek and the back of your head to keep you and your lips steady against his.

Feyd was proven correct at just how sweet you were. You were tooth-achingly sweet, inside and out. He pulled you closer and licked your bottom lip, expecting resistance, that your sensibilities would return pulled away. But you only let out a quiet moan and let him snake his tongue in. Feyd Rautha felt himself strain harder against his trousers, his hand that cupped your cheek trailed lower to your neck then down to your bosom. You gasped and pulled away, surprised by the immediate action. Feyd was dismayed himself as he gambled too much. He should not have dared to be so bold and quick to show all of his desires. “My lord, I…” you say in surprise, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. Eyes were flashing with a warning but deeper desire behind it. You breathed heavily as the Na-Baron backed away and stomped off, retiring to your room confused and filled with need. 

The following morning came, and Feyd’s mind was made. He could not succumb to his desires and ruin you further. He was selfish, and his mind was muddled with want when he dared to kiss you and feel you against him. He knew if he spent another moment in your presence, his control would falter, and he would finally take what he had desired the moment he saw you in the gardens. “We respect your decision, my lord, however unfortunate it is,” Your father spoke as the Na-Baron stood in his study. The sun had barely risen, and the Na-Baron was quick to speak with his host and bid goodbye. “The treaties shall still take place, but a marriage is no longer required, my lord.” The Na-Baron stated, giving the agreement as a consolation for your planet. He watched as your father nodded his head. “I shall call on my daughter for the two of you to bid good bye,” Feyd wanted to protest, cowardly as he had hoped to leave your planet without another glance at you because it would make everything all the more harder. 

You frowned as your father broke the news to you and your mother. You turned to the woman who birthed you and saw the relief in her eyes, urging you to say your goodbyes so the Harkonnen heir could finally leave. You chewed on your lip as you could conclude by the abrupt departure and change of mind of the Na-Baron. You entered your father’s study, and he quickly left to give the two of you privacy. 

You stood by the wooden door, head hung low, and could not take it upon yourself to look at the man you had hoped to be your husband. “Goodbye, my lord, I… I hope you enjoyed your stay,” you said lowly, and Feyd clenched his jaw as he heard the hint of melancholy in your voice—melancholy that he was the reason for. “I have. Thank you for your hospitality, my lady,” He said and felt his body being pulled closer to you. A pull that he himself could not hinder. He stood before you and took your chin between his rough fingers, urging you to look up at him. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked, guessing your startled state the other night is what had led him to the decision. If not that, it was because you were not as chaste as he may have wanted for a wife— that you were ever so enthusiastic to kiss him and let him hold you. Perhaps he thought you untamed or promiscuous which is the reason for his sudden departure. You licked your lips as he made no reply; you shielded your gaze and backed away, his hold on your chin gone. “My lord, if this is about last night, I—“ Feyd clenched his jaw as his mind made him remember the way your lips danced with each other, the way it felt to hold your soft frame against his. “It is not.” He gritted, and you immediately stopped speaking, sensing aggravation in his tone. 

“Then, may I ask what is the reason?” You asked, wanting closure for the disappointment. You listened in to his strained breathing, your eyes catching the way his fists clenched along with his jaw. “I cannot marry you… I cannot be the one to ruin you,” He whispered the last part, his rasping voice struggling to utter the words. You tilted your head in confusion, “What? I do not understand, my lord,” You said and Feyd took in a harsh breath. “You are too pure— too sweet for me. You are not suited to be in the harshness of Geidi Prime let alone be a leader to it.” He said harshly, guilt coming to him as you stared at him with slight fear and offense. “You are too innocent and… and good for someone like me; this is for the best, my lady.” 

You frowned at his words, “You cannot think me to be so delicate,” You defended yourself. The Na-Baron scoffed and shook his head, “You are delicate. You are like those flowers you are greatly fond of— just one wrong thing, and you’ll wilt. You will not wither away in my hands,” He stated, and you felt your lips twitch at how he compared you to flowers. “Is that it? You think I’m weak and too kind?” You asked and observed the way the Na-Baron nodded. “Then I am the perfect match for you, do you not think?” You said, stepping closer. 

Feyd-Rautha was at a loss for words. “If I am weak… I would need someone strong to protect me… someone who is known to be the most skillful warrior in the universe… someone like you,” You whispered and dared to take hold of his cold hand. The Na-Baron felt his heart announce its existence once more, loudly thrashing inside his chest. Your scent invades his senses and makes his knees weak. His gaze turned from looking into your enchanting eyes and then to your luscious lips. “If I am too kind, then I would need someone fearsome so people would not take advantage of me and my good nature… I would need someone ruthless as they say you are,” You whispered, pressing your bodies closer, making him see that you, too, desired him. You feel his length straining against his trousers and perfectly settle upon your stomach, your cheeks going flush at the look of great wanting in the dark eyes of the Na-Baron. 

“If I am too sweet… then I need someone bitter to balance me… I need someone like you, my lord. I want you.” You whispered, slowly going to the tip of your toes to indicate you wished for the kiss. The Na-Baron got the hint and smashed your lips. Your lips fervently danced against each other, the Na-Baron kissing you as if you were the air he needed in his lungs. “You want me?” He breathed as you both parted for air. “I do, Na-Baron.” You said. Truth in your tone. You feel wetness pool between your legs at the growl that left his throat, his lips meeting yours once more. You guided his hand to cup your bosom, just as he had wished to do so the night before. You moaned against his lips as he kneaded your chest through the soft bodice of your gown. 

You feel him guide you to your father’s desk. Perching you upon the stable wooden table and placing himself between your parted legs. Your breathing heaved as his lips were placed on your neck, the Na-Baron biting your flesh and soothing it with his tongue. You turned your head to the ceiling as you felt him hike up your gown, his cold hands leaving fiery heat with each touch. “Say it again,” Feyd demanded as his hands squeezed the plump flesh of your thighs, the heat from your core radiating and calling for him. “I want you, Feyd… I need you, please,” You pleaded and placed your lips to kiss his neck, soft lips kissing his pale flesh, teasing the ball on his throat. 

Your eyes widened as the Na-Baron pulled away, watching in shock as he went to his knees and placed his strong hold on both of your thighs, urging them to part further so his lips could be met with your cunt. You gasped as you felt him push aside your small clothes and lick your slit with his talented tongue. “So fucking sweet,” he groaned and buried his head in your needing cunt. You bit down hard at your lip as the moans you wanted to spew would surely be heard by those who stood and passed outside. “My lord,” You cried as you felt him sucking upon your pearl and his cold finger teasing your entrance. “Feyd… please!” You pleaded as you wanted to feel more. The Na-Baron hummed and obliged your request, placing a finger in your tight cunt. You hear him spew out fouled words and praises, amazed as he watches your wet cunt squeeze tightly around his fingers. “You take my fingers so well, my sweet… now let us see how you’ll manage when it is my cock.” You whimpered as he abruptly stole his pleasuring fingers away as you were on the verge of climax.  

Your eyes were hooded with lust as you watched the Na-Baron greedily suck your essence from his fingers. You felt the urge to close your parted legs to seek out friction at the way he undid his trousers and set his manhood free. Your lips parted as you saw the whole of him, throbbing and pink… the head of his length releasing sheer grayish beads that indicated how much he wanted you. Feyd growled at how shamelessly you looked upon his length, want, and lust, the only thing evident in your eyes. He smashed your lips once more and positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock gliding between your glistening folds. He pushed his way in, and he heard your sharp intake of breath, and whimpers of pain quickly followed. “This what you wanted…” Feyd gritted. A thin sheen of sweat all over his body at how you clenched tightly around him. “Yes, this is what I want.” You said, trying to prove to him that you were not as delicate as he had made you out to be. 

It took a moment before he was fully sheathed inside you. Both of you already panting. When Feyd slowly moved, he watched as your face contorted in pain, kissing away the tears that fell from your eyes as he took away your innocence. Feyd hissed as you clenched around him, finally feeling pleasure, your mouth spewing out sweet moans and calls of his name. “Look at you… my sweet, little wife, so pleasured by my cock,” The tears of pain turned to pleasure as you feel your peak quickly building up again. Feyd claimed your lips and bit down harshly to draw blood, curious to see if even your blood was as sweet as your being; it was. You moaned against his lips as your peak found you, your wetness doubling along with your sensitivity, but that didn't phase the Na-Baron.  He only continued to pound at you at a pace that would surely leave you unable to walk and sore for days to come. 

“Feyd, please…” You pleaded for something you did not know. All you knew was you were about to come once more, ready to cry out the name of the man who provided you with such blinding pleasure. The Na-Baron could usually last for hours, but with the way you clenched around him and how you sweetly moaned and called for his name, it was a miracle that Feyd had not spilled his seed the moment he pushed the head of his cock inside you. “Will you come again, my sweet? Will you come around my cock again?” Feyd hummed as his thumb circled the pearl in your cunt, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. 

“Yes…yes— oh yes!” You cried as you came, clamping around the Na-Baron’s length so tightly that he, too, joined you in your climax. His dark seed filling you and taking root. You two breathed heavily, Feyd hunching over you, who was perched upon your father’s desk. “Still too sweet and pure for you?” You asked in between breaths, watching as Feyd-Rautha wickedly smirked as his bitterness seeped into you and how his hands had tainted you. Perhaps he did need sweetness in his bitter life.

[sp4ceboo]

Atonement: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: fic i wrote with @triluvial 's lovely idea

tw: 18+, smut but pretty soft, oral (f recieving), so so so so much angst, fluff after tho dw, swearing, hints of sa and pedophilia from the baron, baron is also creepy to reader but not explicitly, u gotta bear with my yapping in the beginning but it gets good i promise, inkpie

wc: 3.9k

headcanons for this universe

When you married Feyd-Rautha, you were warned of many things. His cruelty, both in and out of the bedroom, his bloodlust, his uncontrollable rage, his violence, his complete and utter lack of mercy. They told you he was psychotic, he was a cold blooded murderer, he was insatiable and that you’d be lucky to last a year with him, and yet, they never cautioned you of his sheer, unerring indifference.

Before your marriage, you fancied that he’d be like fire; raging, searing to touch. You went as far as to wish to tame his inferno. Late at night, when you could not sleep and doubt wreathed your thoughts, you also considered that he’d be like ice, like the colour of his piercing eyes, glacial and cold, devoid of anything soft or sweet.

As a child, you saw him fight in the arena. There he blazed with passion, his victor’s smile a cruel curve upon his face, his knife blade stained dark with fresh blood: he was mesmerising. At that time you were beginning to understand that your future had been sold to this violent man, and you resented your parents for it - now you realise that it went deeper than that, that it was rooted in generations of religion, of whisperings of the Bene Gesserit. Still, even then, you found the way he burned intriguing, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

But you were wrong. He turned out to be neither fire nor ice, just stingingly, dismissively apathetic. His eyes slide right over you when he happens to pass you in the corridors, as if you’re lower than a servant, lower than the rare rats that survive Giedi Prime’s conditions. You suspected your marriage would be painful, wedded to a man such as he was, but you didn’t think it would be this damn lonely.

You wished he hated you.

That way, at least you’d mean something to your husband. At least then vehement, savage emotion would rise within his gaze whenever he looked at you, not that horrible, polarising blankness. You wish you disgusted him, because then he’d at least he’d speak his mind - you had learnt that he spoke with brutal honesty, uncaring of the consequences.

Maybe to him, that’s all you are. A consequence of being high born, of being the na-Baron. You mean nothing to him, and he treats you as such; to him, you are less than the speck of dust on the floor, less than a grain of sand in his beloved arena.

It’s not that you wish for him to dote on you, nor love you or devote himself to you. You just wish he would look you in the eye and feel something; you’d rather him stare at you in revulsion and call you names that you can’t even think up yourself than the dead, lifeless detachment that clouds his face when he sees you in your shared chambers.

Feyd-Rautha has never laid a hand on you in violence; in fact he rarely touches you at all. The last, and only time he kissed you was during the wedding day, and he makes no moves to be in bodily contact with you any more than he has to be. You are obliged to produce an heir from him, yet even in these infrequent encounters it seems as if it is a chore for him - he takes no pleasure in your body nor does he try to pleasure you, and he makes no sound when he takes you, staying as long as it takes for his seed to fill your womb before leaving without a word. On those nights, your thighs tremble as you stumble to the bathroom, only allowing your tears to fall once the shower water is searing on your skin.

During the first month of your marriage, you did everything in your power to please him. You thought maybe you weren’t pretty enough for him, maybe you were not desirable as a wife, so you always smiled at him, made an effort to fill the silence that pervaded the air around him, bringing up topics you knew he would enjoy, like the arena, like his love for knives and duels. To even that he would not reply, rebutting your questions with monosyllables or simply ignoring you. You stopped once he began to leave the room while you were mid sentence.

It is now your fourth month locked in this marriage with an uncaring man, and all you feel is bleak, crushing resignation. Somehow, Feyd-Rautha seems to take more interest in conversing with his brother than you.

You wonder if he has forgotten your name. He addresses you simply as ‘wife’ - that, and nothing more, the title leaving his lips like an accusatory curse, reminding you that if you did not serve a purpose to him, and if decorum did not restrain him, he’d have disposed of you by now, either by slitting your throat or simply abandoning you outside the palace grounds, not even bothering to end you himself.

The palace in question is lonely, but you feel the loneliest when you lay awake at night, shivering on your side of the bed as Feyd-Rautha slumbers to your right. Tears always prick your eyes during those moments, but you stifle them, afraid that you’ll rouse him with your crying; you do not know what you’ve done to garner his mistrust, but many times you’ve glimpsed the knife he keeps beneath his pillow, the cold blade glinting in the moonlight.

Often you wonder if he has a secret lover, and that is why he does not bother with you. You wake up sometimes and he is gone, but soon you realised that he would visit his concubines, especially after he had bred you. You would finish your shower, unable to wash off the feel that you were dirty, you were just an animal, a mindless thing to produce an heir for him, and he would be lounging in the antechambers of your quarters, ignoring your presence with the three harpies wrapped around him, whispering in his ears and caressing his moonlight skin. They accompanied him everywhere he wished, even in public, and to begin with, you felt humiliated that he would so explicitly show that you were not to his satisfaction.

Now, it just makes the solitude even worse.

You find solace in no one. More than once, you have walked in on the servants laughing behind your back, and as it became evident your husband was uninterested in you, they did not hide their mocking. The Baron’s other nephew you hardly saw, and the Baron himself terrified you: there was something in the way that he stared at you, his beady eyes glittering from where they were set deep within his putrid flesh, that made you feel more soiled than even after Feyd-Rautha took you.

So you remain isolated, speaking only when spoken to, drifting through the palace’s wide, dark hallways like a ghoul, a mourning spectre. You can barely remember your life before, just wisps and fleeting flashes of colour that ridicule rather than comfort you.

To Feyd, it is obvious who you are. A spy, commanded by his uncle to report every single one of his doings to you; he cannot slip up once around you, cannot reveal his weaknesses, that he is desperate to be loved, to be seen as someone whose only use is not war. He sees the way his uncle looks at you, hungry for information you do not have because he does not impart it, the way the Baron comments on you and the way you flinch at his words, pretending that you do not report to him.

Feyd is determined in his resolve to give nothing away. His uncle has held power over him since he was young, he refuses to give him even an inch over him now. He still has nightmares of it, which he wakes up from with his pale skin sheened in clammy sweat, clammy like the hands of his uncle.

Sometimes, he sees the tears in your eyes after he fucks you. The first time, he almost stopped, almost asked you where it hurt, but you turned away before he could, acting, always acting; acting when you smile graciously at him, acting when you ask him what his favourite type of blade is, what his favourite form of swordsmanship is. You are good at pretending, but of course you are - his uncle is the Baron, a man who bathes in power. No doubt he would get only the best of spies.

Tonight, you are not where you normally are. At this hour, you are usually asleep, or feigning it in the very least, curled up small on your side of the mattress, yet the bed is still made, the sheets unrumpled and smoothed down as they were this morning. Feyd thinks that maybe he might catch you reporting to his uncle, so he strides out of your shared chambers, pausing in the doorway to listen carefully; as a boy, he hunted in forests that have now been chopped down and industrialised, but he has maintained his keen ears long after the last wild plant on Giedi Prime’s surface choked on the fumes of pollution.

There’s a soft noise, barely perceptible, that echoes down the corridor to his right. Silently, he tracks it down the labyrinthine passages of the palace, servants scurrying out of his warpath, bowing their heads to him - he wonders if they too report to his uncle, if they travel now to his quarters to inform him of his beloved nephew’s whereabouts.

Feyd wishes he and Rabban were brothers first before rivals. Then he could have someone to rely on, someone who he trusted in this palace built on lies.

Pausing, Feyd cocks his head. You huddle in a crumpled heap at the end of the corridor, your knees hugged tightly to your chest, head low as if under a crushing weight. It occurs to him that maybe the Baron was displeased with your efforts to gain information and made it known to you - a pang of pity tugs at him, for he knows what his uncle’s wrath is like. At least you have been spared from the sole thing worse than that - the Baron’s thirst.

‘What are you doing, wife?’

Your head snaps up, Feyd-Rautha’s unfeeling voice kindling a rare burst of temper from you. Is it not evident to him what you are doing? Or is he just too blind to see the tears streaking down your cheeks? Your words are injected with venom when you speak, and you hope that it stings him for leaving you alone in this cold, dark place.

‘So now I am of concern to you?’

Feyd is taken aback by the indignant arch of your brows, the resentment displayed in your eyes. It takes him a moment to register the harshness lacing your voice - you have never addressed him in this way - and another to digest your words. There’s a bleakness in your wet, tear stained face as you stare up at him, and shock too, as if you did not expect yourself to speak against him this way.

Something clicks into place.

Feyd recognises that look in your eyes. He recognises it, because he’s seen it in the mirror a hundred times before; haunted, harrowed, lonely. He remembers nights when he trembled beneath the cold sheets of his bed, when he was small enough that he felt like he was drowning in the black satin, his eyes wide as the fabric seemed to wend around his limbs, tying him there as he lay fearful of everyone, fearful that his uncle would summon him. Even young, he was so terribly aware of not knowing who he could trust and who would turn to the Baron, bearing information like knives to split open his childish skin and spill his guts on the freezing stone floor.

It broke him. He is barely a shell of a sentient being, repressed emotions wreathing like ghosts around his frame, his eyes hollow, his heart decaying. In his fear, he was blinded, and he pushed you to the place where he had been all those years ago, so terribly, terribly alone - you are stronger than him, for lasting this long.

Sharp, plunging, dread sinks in his stomach, weighs down his soul; he has done unspeakable things to you, treated you like a dog, like a whore - worse. How can you look at him without hatred in your eyes, spite?

Bile rises in his throat, his heart seized by a dark, burning anger. He has done this to you, he has slashed your skin and left you bleeding, and yet all you did was try to please him. In an effort to save himself, he trampled you under foot; in order to keep you out, he left you surrounded by shadows. Feyd has never hated himself so much, has never despised who he has become with this much furor.

Slowly, he crouches before you. Eyes wide, you shrink away, misreading the direction of his rage, flinching when he reaches out a hand. Pressing your back against the wall behind you, you turn your head away from him, fear causing tears to spill down your cheeks: he sees the way you will the stone to swallow you up, knows the feeling.

‘Please don’t hurt me,’ you choke out, hands trembling uncontrollably.

Something deep within Feyd’s soul withers and dies at your words. Forcing his jaw to unclench, his hands to release the fists they held, he shoves down his anger. The fury is for later, for when he has made things right - for now it is you that is his priority. Too late, a voice whispers in his ears, too late, too late, too late -

Gods, he deserves to burn at the fucking stake for this. He deserves eternal hell for this, he deserves worse. He is a fool: a blind, blundering fool, stuffed to the brim with paranoia and cynicism.

He sucks in a breath. ‘I will not hurt you. You have my word, whatever it is worth to you. I - I have made an irredeemable mistake, I - ’

After his first sentence, you have not heard him. Tears of relief soak your face, and you whisper needless apologies for them; it is an arrow through his heart that you fear him so - yet the pain is where it is due, justifiable for the way he has shamed you, belittled you.

‘May I - may I touch you, my wife?’

You do not know why you nod in reply of your husband’s strange request, but the moment you do, strong arms pull you into a solid chest, and a sob leaves you - he is so warm, warm enough to banish the seeping cold embedded in your bones, warm enough to let your sorrow flow anew, soaking his shirt as your hands bunch in its fabric, so that if he is cruel enough to leave you here, at least he will have to fight to do so. You have not been held in a long time.

Each of your shuddering sobs is a knife blade twisting in Feyd’s spirit. He lets the pain wash over him, clings to the way you burrow into his arms, a kind creature in the embrace of a monster. At one point, in the throes of your crying, you beat at his chest, telling him that you hate him, and he takes it with a bowed head, stroking your hair and holding you tighter once you exhaust yourself; this is only a fraction of his atonement.

You fall asleep in his arms. He carries you back to your quarters, and only once the door is closed behind him does he let his tears mingle with yours. Keeping you cradled to his chest like a child, he pours a glass of water for you to drink in the morning, knowing you will be dehydrated; he sets it on your bedside table before laying you down on the mattress.

You don’t let go of him, even in your sleep. His heart clenches, tight in his chest, and he drops a kiss in your hair before lying down beside you.

He believes he will love you, if you will let him.

Consciousness leaks slowly into your mind, and you blink, squinting through the beam of light that filters in through the curtains. From your months spent here, you’ve realised that Giedi Prime’s atmosphere is normally churned up with violent storms and choked with pollution, so this ray of sun that falls against your pillow, warming your face is far from unwanted - nor is the pale forearm tucked around your waist, firmly so, but not trapping you either.

Your husband’s chest fits snugly against your back, his breath warm and steady against your skin; his fingers splay out across your stomach, gentle, communicating so many things that were left unsaid. Vaguely, you remember falling asleep, nestled against his chest, tears drying on your cheeks.

When you roll over, you’re unsurprised that he’s already awake. With blue eyes softened by the sunlight, he regards you, fingers settled at the small of your waist. Something clouds his gaze, and he shifts, propping himself up on his elbows.

‘I owe you an explanation.’

You wait silently, unperturbed by the way he clenches his jaw. He vowed to you last night that he would not hurt you, and you trust that. Wordlessly, his lips open, then close, and you patiently watch him, far too well acquainted with how this man struggles to let down his guard - even now, you cannot read the twisting of his features, the way his eyes squint as he looks at you.

‘I - I thought you were a spy sent by my uncle,’ he finally confesses. ‘My uncle… when I was younger, he,’

Reaching out, you cup his jaw in your hand, running your thumb along his cheekbone until he relaxes. You see the battle in his eyes, to let go, to tell you the knowledge that he thinks you deserve, but you see with it the years of hurt, of solitude. Something hopeful, something beautiful blossoms within you - the realisation that this wounded beast before you is someone that you could grow to love; you want him to bare his scars to you, those that are long healed and those that still seep with blood.

‘All in good time, Feyd,’ you assure him quietly.

He sighs, touches his lips against your palm. ‘I am sorry, my wife.’

Slipping your hand down to grip his shoulder, you lean closer towards him so you can kiss him. An anguished sound leaves him, and you see clearly how he realises that he has wronged you, how it pains him, and yet how the taste of you awakens something tender within him - you marvel at it, that it has survived, buried within him for so long. Perhaps he will let you love him.

Feyd is neither forward nor insatiable in the way he kisses you. In fact, he pulls away first, moving to get up from the bed despite the way your hands grip his shoulders, and you almost doubt that he wants you before you glimpse the longing in his eyes that lingers before he pushes it down. You wonder if this man knows how to make love or if he just knows how to fuck, you wonder if he feels the same molten feeling in his stomach that you feel and that is why his movements are tinged with nerves as he gently escapes your grasp. It is clear to you: he does not want to scare you.

‘Must you go?’ You ask, tugging at his fingers.

He tilts his head. ‘I don’t know if you want me here, after what I have inflicted upon you.’

A streak of bravery takes ahold of you. ‘Please, Feyd, I want you.’

You delight at the fire that ignites in his eyes upon your words. He wastes no time in returning to your side, dropping a sweet tasting kiss to your lips before taking your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours as he sits between your thighs.

‘Tell me if you want to stop,’ he says. ‘Yes?’

‘Yes,’ you echo, blood heating your cheeks.

Feyd kisses you again, giving you time to rescind your reply if you want, but you just tug at the hem of his shirt, drinking in his sculpted chest when he pulls the black cloth over his head. Delicately, he trails his lips down your skin as he undresses you, his broad hands warm where they encircle your waist, holding you flush to him as his calloused palms explore your body, skimming over your spine and caressing your breasts before settling on your thighs and pulling them open.

You’re terribly aware of how wet you are when his eyes settle on your pussy. Instinctively, your knees tip inwards, your face growing hot at the hunger in his gaze, but his broad shoulders block your legs from closing, followed closely by his hands which gently push them back open. He smiles at the blush high on your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over your ankle in order to put you at ease.

The sound you make when he pushes his fingers into your cunt and curls them almost makes Feyd moan. You tremble for him, bashful, and he can feel himself rock hard against the mattress, aching for the tight clamp of your velvet walls. He wants to bury himself between your thighs, and so he does, your sweet slick exquisite on his tongue - he presses kisses like butterflies to your thighs, your hips, worshipping you as his fingers pump in and out of you to the same pace as your heaving chest.

You look beautiful, gilded by the sunlight, lower lip trapped between your teeth, but he doesn’t miss the way you grip the sheets with one hand, the other clapped over your mouth, panting as he pleases you. Stroking your thigh, he pauses, licking your slick off his lips.

‘Let me hear you,’ he bids.

You blush again but obey him, tremors wracking your body as he sucks on your clit, laving his tongue over it until you throw your head back, eyes rolling as you come, your honeyed moans and hot release exquisite upon his senses. He wants more, needs more of the taste of you, but you tug at his shoulders, whining for his cock, and he’d rather die than deny you.

The way you say his name when he buries himself inside you sets his soul on fire. You look beautiful beneath him, shaking and whimpering from the hot pulse of his length, clawing at his shoulders until he wears red marks that he’s proud to bear, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you. It seems you cannot get enough of him, and Feyd is more than fine with that because he finds himself addicted to the feel of you under his hands, begging him for more.

Feyd remains entranced long after he comes inside you, with you, your cunt spasming around him. You draw close to him, intertwining your legs with his as he kisses your face, your neck, your chest, making sure he has not hurt you, making sure you are sated. Curling your fingers under his jaw, stopping him, you look him in the eye and smile before kissing him, and he finds himself mesmerised again by you.

He is certain you will let him love you. He is yours.

[forcebook]

Lift your hips for me please.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Healer

Feyd-Rautha x reader

Summary: Feyd's a bit attached to his new healer.

Notes/Warnings: nothing really. Cursing, kinda. Mention of injury. 

Words: 3500

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist

He’s been trained never to forget a face. A lesson that started in childhood, which he instantly showed an aptitude for. Sealing the details of a face to memory keeps the image of an enemy alive. It keeps the anger festering. It overtakes his dreams so not a moment is wasted thinking of anything other than the victory of the battles ahead. It keeps him strong, formidable, a weapon of destruction to be used to the benefit of Giedi Prime whenever the situation calls for it, which is not infrequently. 

But there’s been one exception in his life. An exception to those thoughts—a bit of room in his head for a dream other than those of fighting and bloodshed—and it is dedicated to you. Your face. Your eyes. Your smile. 

He never met you. Never spoke to you. Only saw you. As you were led around the Harkonnen fortress by the elder healers, who were all growing too old to properly do their jobs, he peeked around corners and followed down hallways, trying to catch glimpses of the foreign girl. 

He felt like a fool with each silent step he took. Much like the healers, he was too old to be doing what he was doing: lurking about his own home like a child playing hide and seek, striving to be unseen as if he was not important enough to have eyes upon him at all times. But he couldn’t help himself. He was curious. You were unique, and he liked unique things. He liked special things. Special things were all the more satisfying to corrupt. Though, for the first time, he had to contend with the incessant resistance to the voice telling him he didn’t want to hurt you. 

Then you were gone, snatched away from him not a day later. But he’s never forgotten you. Your face has remained a clear image over the last five years, every feature unaltered. Not a mar on your skin misplaced. 

That’s why he recognizes you instantly. 

You’re a bit taller; hair a touch longer. Your features are more defined but still show the delicacy and softness that he remembers from years prior. Curves are prominent; hips wider, breasts fuller, the Geidi Prime leathers doing a poor job of hiding your shape. But you’re still as foreign-looking as ever. Equally as intriguing as the first time he saw you. 

He’s acutely aware of his surroundings: the lack of air circulating, the placement of his body as he leans against the metal table in the center of the room, his discarded shirt. He’d stripped himself of the top half of his bloodied armor before you entered and now can not tell if he’d prefer to have kept it on. Modesty is not a trait attributed to him, but he feels too exposed with you here, like every thought he’s ever had of you is plastered across his pale skin, and the second you look at him, you’ll see the telling display.

But you’ve yet to look in his direction. You’re busying yourself, far more concerned with the bowls of medical supplies on the cart against the wall. You grab a couple of gauzy pads, some tape, and a small metal spatula that you’ve scooped some ointment onto. 

Glancing over your shoulder, your eyes flick to his bicep before you return your attention to your collection. “It’s not too bad,” you tell him, and fuck, he likes your voice. He never got a chance to hear it before. You’d been an obedient little guest while trying to keep up with everything the elders were telling you years ago, and obedient little guests sew their lips shut. “Though I’m sure you’re aware of that.”

When the melody of your voice dissipates, he looks down at his arm. Truth be told, he forgot about the small slice that, with a bit of luck, a slave managed to inflict in the arena. The rush of pleasure subsided and he ceased feeling the warm trickle of blood seeping from the wound the moment you walked into the room, instantly more preoccupied with your surprising presence. 

He was expecting one of the elders, the healers he’s had since he was a boy. But with their recent displays of poor memories and trembling fingers from age, he supposes it was only a matter of time before they would retire. However, he was not made aware of a replacement—a much younger, captivating replacement.

“You're new,” he says through the gravel in his throat. 

“Yes,” you confirm. “But I assure you I know what I'm doing.” Then you turn and set your supplies on the table to the side of his body, laying them out in the order you intend to use them before getting straight to work.

The flinch that your touch induces when you rub an alcohol-soaked pad over his bicep to disinfect and clean the drying blood from his skin stuns him. He’s not a flincher. He never flinches. But he can’t help it. He can’t help the tingle that runs down his spine. He can’t help how his stare glues to your face as you work. He can’t help wanting to press his thumb to your bottom lip and tug it free from the trap of your teeth. 

If he did that, would you even notice? You’re a thorough worker, honed in, too focused to stop and pay attention to him. Your steps are executed with the ease that years of practice afford, and the task is completed much sooner than he would’ve liked. 

Your thumbs stroke over his bicep, smoothing out the edges of the tape that holds the pad to his skin. “There,” you say, satisfied with the job. 

Finally, you look up at him. 

The tingle returns, and bumps travel down the length of his forearms as he watches each shift of your features. How your eyes widen, how your lips part, how your breath hitches, making his heart hammer behind the wall of his chest. You’re so close. It wouldn’t take much to kiss you. A slight dip of his head. A hand on the back of your neck to draw you in those remaining inches. 

But then you blink. The bond of your gazes breaks, and you take a step out of the bubble of space you were sharing. You clear your throat. Your eyes fall to the floor. “I’m done,” you mutter before quickly gathering the used supplies and discarding them in the trash. “I will see you after your next fight, my Lord. Assuming you suffer any injuries.” And then you’re gone. 

—

It’s painful to Feyd’s pride, letting a weaker man succeed in injuring him in front of all of Giedi Prime. Spectators know the slave is an easy kill. He’s too thin, muscle mass barely evident. It’s a duel that should last mere minutes, if that, and yet Feyd lets it extend well past expectations—just long enough to ensure a few slashes of his opponent's blade will penetrate his thin armor without it being obvious he’s allowing the assault to happen. 

The second Feyd feels the third nick in his flesh, a swift, skilled maneuver ends the slave’s life. Three is better than one, he thinks. More injuries means more time spent with you tending to him. And he wants that time. It is all he’s thought about for days. Feeling your touch again. Hearing your voice. Peering into your eyes. 

He does not waste a moment to bask in the cheers following his victory, a tune he usually absorbs as if the sound grants him extended life. Instead, he drops his crimson-coated weapon onto the sand beside the fallen body and stomps toward one of the arena exits.  

You startle when you see him, so subtle that had he blinked, it would’ve gone undetected. A brief scan of his chest confirms what he knew you would be surprised to see: more blood than before, more cuts for you to heal. 

Composing yourself, you make your way to the aid cart. His eyes follow every movement of you collecting what you need before you turn to him, once again arranging your tools in the order you intend to use them.

The alcohol is cooler to the touch this time, a direct repercussion of his burning skin, and he grips the edge of the table until his knuckles whiten. He wants to reach out. He wants to feel you. You’re not as close as you were a few days ago, and it’s a glaring mar on the fruition of his daydreams. A wedge of air between you. 

He leans in a modest couple of inches to see if you will maintain that distance. When you don’t, he says, “Where are you from?”

Your mouth opens and then closes. A pause, and then it opens again. “Caladan,” you say, your eyes still trained on the process of your work.

Caladan. Now that you say it, it makes perfect sense. The hair, the accent, the color of the clothes you wore five years ago. He hasn’t interacted with many Caladanians, any Caladanians, but still, he should’ve guessed. 

“That's where you trained?” he asks, but he knows the answer. It’s common knowledge that Caladan produces strong healers, and you tell him just as much. 

“We have good teachers,” you say as you swipe a spatula’s-worth of ointment just under his collarbone. “Healers from many planets find their replacements on Caladan. I was chosen to come to Giedi Prime long ago, once completing my education.” Feyd hums in acknowledgment. Your eyes flick up to his and then go back to his chest. A pink tinge seeps into your cheeks. “I visited once.”

“Is that right.”

You nod. “I liked it here,” you tell him. “It’s different, but different is…” your voice trails off. “Sometimes different is good.”

Feyd agrees. Different can be good. He runs his gaze down the length of your body. Sometimes different can be very good. 

“Eager to leave such an inferior place?” he asks as you take a step to his right, starting on the cut across his pec. 

Your brow pinches and you swallow—he can sense the hesitation—then you bite your lip. You can’t keep doing that: nibbling on that lip until its swollen state is indistinguishable from that of a long, thorough kiss. He’ll be inclined to do something about it. With each passing second, the urge grows harder to resist, and he’s just about ready to lift his hand to your face when you answer. 

“There was nothing for me on Caladan,” you say. “Nothing for any of us. We were the children without families, without parents.”

Feyd snaps himself out of his fascination with your mouth and scoffs. “So what? They’re useless, anyway.”

The pressure of your hand holding the pad against his chest lightens, and you look up. Your expression is blank, but you hold his stare. 

He can’t tell what’s tumbling around in that mind of yours. Maybe you know, maybe the truth of what he did to his own mother reached far enough to find an orphan’s ear on Caladan. Though what he’s done does not matter to him, he’s suddenly unsure of the effect it may have on you, and he can’t say he would be pleased to have offended you if it widens the gap between your body and his. But it proves inconsequential when your lips quirk up at the corners.

You lightly shake your head as you get back to work. “I wouldn’t know. They were dead before I could remember them.”

A huff blows from his nostrils. “Then trust me.”

Just barely, Feyd detects the slight curve of another smile. Silence passes as you tear off a strip of tape from the roll. Once the tape is sealed to his skin, you move away to begin cleaning up, but he grabs your wrist. You freeze solid. Then your head whips to stare at the contact. “There's one more,” he says before he releases you and turns.

As you step up behind him, the swell of pulsing energy surrounding you merges with his. Each puff of your breath warms his skin. The muscles in his back flex and shift in anticipation of your touch. 

“Right,” you practically whisper. He nearly shudders when the tip of your finger traces a line just under the cut. “Just…stay still.”

Easier said than done.

—

He’ll admit this one potentially went a bit too far. 

He had to do something, though. Something drastic. It’s been months of you tending to his intentional low-grade injuries, but lately you've begun to address them at a much quicker pace. After his last three fights, you’ve come in, slapped a piece of tape on his wounds, and rushed out before he could pull a word or two from you. 

He can’t make sense of it. He doesn’t understand how what he did made everything change. From his perspective, you’ve grown closer. He knows you better from shared details of your history and life—details he does not care to request from any other soul on the planet—and those touches, those moments of skin-on-skin, were only becoming more intense. Your fingers were lingering longer. Your cheeks would redden whenever your eyes met. When your body was close enough to his, your breathing would turn shallow. Then one day, he touched your cheek, ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and now you run away as if being in his presence for too long will suck the life out of you.  

But this you cannot run away from. This requires more attention. 

A groan rumbles from his throat as he peels off his top layer and tosses it aside. The fabric is damp, slick with sweat and blood, and it makes a sloppy noise when it hits the floor. He looks down. It’s deeper than he intended. Not life-threatening by far, but you certainly won’t be able to stick a bandage on it and go on your way.

With a heavy exhale, he grabs a pad from the cart and presses it to his abdomen before crossing the room to lean against the edge of the table. He waits. After a handful of minutes, his patience curdles; thoughts of the impossible start to invade. Are you hiding? Did you escape? Have you thrown yourself off a ledge to get away from him? 

You open the door before he can entertain any other questions. 

“You’re late,” he grumbles. 

The door slams behind you, your gaze instantly going to the blood-soaked gauze. There’s a lack of your usual grace as you stomp your steps in his direction. “Let me see it,” you demand in a tone he’s never heard from you. His heart pounds at the fire in your eyes. The pace of his breaths quickens. 

He does his best to control the rise and fall of his chest, but it’s impossible. Luckily, you’re too distracted by the state of his lower body to notice. “Why are you late?” he asks. 

“Move your hand.”

“Answer me.”

“Move your hand.” His brow raises. A beat passes, and then he pulls back the gauze to reveal the gash in his torso. A frown sets on your face. Your eyes snap to his. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“I watched you,” you tell him. “You gave that prisoner a window.”

“You’re late because you were watching the fight?” You’ve never watched his fights. It is not permitted. Your role is to wait for him, not join in on the entertainment.

You cross your arms under your chest. A crease forms in between your brows. “Why did you let him stab you?” you say, voice steady with the exception of the wobble that briefly sneaks in halfway through. 

An immediate sense of satisfaction settles over him. It’s rapidly becoming clear—you’re more than bothered, more than irritated, you’re worried. And now he has the high ground. “Maybe you should assist me instead of asking questions. I’m bleeding out.”

Your lips part, but whatever words you have contain themselves just before they release, and your mouth closes. You stare at him. A smirk curls the edge of his lips that makes you roll your eyes. 

With a huff, your arms drop down to your sides. “Stand up straight.” 

When he does, your hand knocks his aside to remove the pad so you can better examine him. The bleeding has slowed. The skin around the wound has begun to feel tight. It still hurts like a damn bitch, and the way you focus on him only adds to the pleasurable sensation. 

Your fingers press around the perimeter of the laceration, carefully prodding, searching for signs of something he would not understand, and his throat constricts at those gentle brushes on his flesh. His stomach clenches. Tingles and chills and goosebumps. 

Once you’re satisfied with your findings, your hand flattens against the ridges of his abs. A sharp inhale sucks into his lungs as your palm slides up his body, stopping at the center of his chest. You lightly push. “Lay down,” you instruct. His hand raises and covers yours. He wants to hold on, pull you down with him, on top of him. If he could have your weight begging to meld with his, if he could kiss you– “Down. You need stitches.” 

Your hand escapes from under his, and as you head over to the cart, he pulls himself up onto the table. Your supplies are all the same save for the pliers and thread that you expertly loop through the hole of a needle.

The punctures don’t sting. He can hardly feel them as he watches you nibble on your lip again, unable to jerk his gaze away from your face. With the seconds that tick by, your cheeks begin to bloom a soft pink. The shade deepens the longer he stares. 

“It’ll scar,” you tell him as you tie off a final knot before peeling the gloves from your hands. He finally blinks. As he sits up, you take a few steps back and hug your arms around your waist. “You blocked every fatal attack but allowed this one,” you say. “Tell me why.”   

He hums. It should be obvious. For what other purpose would there be? “Do you really not know?” he asks. When you don’t answer, he says, “Or are you smart enough to come to the conclusion all on your own.”

When he sees the harsh swallow in your throat, that’s all he needs. He slides off the table to stand and slowly eases closer, backing you up until you’re trapped between his body and the concrete wall. He searches for trembling, any evidence of discomfort, but it’s not there—no shaking hands, no quivering lip. His head dips, eliminating some unwanted space. 

Your chin tilts upward slightly. But you hold yourself back. “My Lord…”

“Kiss me,” he whispers.

You swallow again. “You’re the na-Baron.”

“Yes.”

“We can’t–”

“We can,” he says. And then he leans lower and presses his lips to the delicate skin of your neck. He detects a gasp as his tongue darts out and glides across heated flesh. You smell so good. You taste even better. When he pulls back, your noses are almost touching; mouths so close the air between you becomes thin. “Kiss,” he repeats. “Me.”

Your eyes flit between his and his lips, which demand yours. He watches intently, waiting for you to finally surrender and sink into the pulsing thrum of your bodies.

And then you cave. Your hand goes to the back of his neck and your mouth plants firmly on his. 

You kiss him hard, like you've wanted this as much as he has, and he can't help letting you have a moment of control to prove it. But he craves more. His head goes fuzzy as he matches the give and take. Fingers tangle into the strands of your foreign hair, lightly tugging, and he swallows the moan it draws from you.

He's greedy—wanting all that you have to offer. When your tongue touches his, his hands can't stop from roaming from your cheeks to your waist to your hips, pulling you closer. 

Already he knows he won't be able to get over this. That this will not be a single kiss but rather the first of many. Very many. And by the way you grip his shoulders, it seems you know it too.

Suddenly, the connection severs and he's forced to chase after your lips, catching one more kiss before you pull out of reach. His brow pinches, but you don't acknowledge his distaste.

Your breaths are heavy as you peer up at him. “I don't wish to be a Lord's concubine.”

“You won't be my concubine,” he says. Concubine has been the furthest from his mind as his yearning for you has continued to grow over the weeks. It's too weak a title. He likes you more than that. More than his Darlings, more than any woman his uncle has attempted to throw at him. 

“Then what will I be?”

He picks his words carefully, knowing that what he wants, what he's imagined, could be much too overwhelming. Scary, even. And he has no intention of making you a harder conquest. So all he says is:

“You’ll be more.”

---

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. I've struggled to write much of anything for the past two months, so this took a lot, and I honestly don't know how it turned out. If you liked it, let me know :)

[nerdy-novelist017]

Paige's Masterlist For The Bikeriders

Requests Are Open For Benny x Bunny Or If You Just Wanna Chat, I'd Love To Hear From You :)

Benny x Bunny 🐰

aka: shy!reader who has Benny Cross positively wrapped around your finger from the very first time you stood before him with a bowl of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

* means it has NSFW content!

Part 1 Little Bunny

Part 2 The Ride

Part 3 A Date

Part 4 Rooftop Conversations

Part 5 Ponytails and Promises

Part 6 Apologies

Part 7 Perfect

Part 8 Soaked

One Shots*

SFW Alphabet

NSFW Alphabet*

Life Raft*

Broken Glass

Sweet Talking*

Bruised Ego

Love, Lids, & Lessons

Baby Fever

T-Shirts

Denim*

Tease*

(I sadly can’t add anymore of you wonderful readers to my tag list but you can turn on post notifications for updates about Benny and Bunny!)

[tpwk-formula1]

Paddock Bunny Series - 2

AN - So, I know I've been MIA but Friday and Saturday I have off so I'm hoping I can get a lot done in those days! Once I get started on the requests I'm sure they'll start flowing a lot easier again! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE send in SMAU, text AU, and Fluff requests because I am genuinely stuck right now with those.

Drivers Included:

Oscar Piastri x Lily Zneimer x reader (Lily on FT)

Charles Leclerc x reader

TW - Phone sex, oral (m and f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering, protected sex

WC - 4.7K

Y/N POV

"Driver's room 15 minutes"

I see a text saying from Oscar making m

e smirk slightly. The Emilia-Romagna Grand Prix wrapped up about an hour ago and seeing Oscar moving through the garage before going into the media pen I knew he was upset with losing 2 places during the race.

While about half of the grid knows about what happened between Lando, Carlos and I, Charles has been the only new driver to be bold enough to invite me over until now.

Once the 15 minutes of socializing with some of the engineers is up I slowly make my way to where both the drivers rooms are. When Lando sees me in the hallways he sends me a quick smirk.

"Oscar actually listened to me?" Lando says when I pass him going to the door with 81 on the front.

"You suggested me to him?" I ask a little surprised not thinking Lando would be the one to start encouraging other drivers.

"Only him and only today. He was upset with his results. He needed a pick me up and I knew if I didn't encourage him he would absolutely never message you," Lando replies back making me laugh softly and shake my head.

"Stop talking about me like I can't do anything for myself," Oscar says while opening the door and looking at Lando.

Lando doesn't get another word in before Oscar's hand is wrapped around my wrist while he pulls me into his drivers room before closing the door and locking it so no one can disturb us.

"Oscar, I don't mean to kill the mood before it's even been set but what about Lily?" I ask softly. I knew he was in a long term relationship and I be damned if I'm the reason they split.

"She knows. I told her before I even texted you," Oscar replies back making a me cock my head to the side a bit surprised.

"She said you're my only pass, even joked that she wants to join next time. But if I'm honest I don't think it was a joke, I know she has a massive girl crush on you," Oscar says with a slight laugh falling from his lips but leaving me slightly shocked. It had never once been a secret that I was bi sexual but I thought one of the wags would even know who I was.

"Well, maybe if she really wants that maybe we could set it up," I say with a soft shrug of my shoulders before walking towards Oscar and softly placing my hands around his neck and pulling him closer making his breath hitch slightly.

"Fuck," Oscar gasps slightly when my words sink in making me smirk slightly.

"What do you want today?" I ask softly while looking up at him making him look down and stare at my lips before he crashes his down on mine making me moan out in shock.

I feel Oscar's hands trail down to my waist where he squeezes my hips slightly making me moan which he takes advantage of by slipping his tongue into my mouth letting me taste him.

I feel Oscar slowly moving up towards the small hard couch where he slowly sits down pulling me towards him and into his lap forcing me to straddle around his waist.

Oscar was still in his racing suit and with his hanging around his waist it wasn't hard to push them down enough to reach into his fireproofs and briefs to fetch out his already throbbing cock.

"Shit," Oscar hisses when my fingers firmly wrap around his cock and slowly start jerking him off. He was girthy as fuck and I knew it was gonna make me a few extra seconds to fully wrap my lips around my cock but I don't waist time getting onto my knees in front of Oscar.

"What are- fuck," Oscar starts talking but is quickly cut off when I take a slow lick from the base of his cock to his leaking tip before I slowly start wrapping my lips around his cock and try to relax my jaw enough to take more of his cock.

Once my mouth is as stuffed as I can get it I look up to find Oscar already staring down at me with wide eyes. I slowly start pulling off his cock making Oscar throw his head back with a moan.

"Sorry I can't take more," I admit softly once I've pulled back making Oscar look down at me with a stunned look.

"I don't give a fuck," Oscar says seriously before his hands are tangled in my hair once again pushing me towards his cock.

Once my lips are wrapped around his cock I start bobbing my head on his cock making a chorus of moans leave Oscar's mouth.

Learning different things about each of the boys might become my favorite thing.

Lando is more submissive even if he tries to be dominant. I know the truth and I'm determined to get him to let me dominate him so he realizes how good it can be.

Carlos is dominant like no ones business. He has a big cock and knows how to use it properly. So far he's the adventurous one loving to try different positions, different places, anything he can do to switch it us he'll try it.

Charles, well he's just a sweetheart. I've only been with him once and he was more about my pleasure than his.

And now little Oscar, the baby of the paddock, is noisy. From the moment his lips touched mine little gasps and moans have not stopped.

I could tell Oscar was getting close which has me speeding up my actions slightly which has Oscar's hands gripping my hair hards and pushing me down even more making me gag slightly.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Oscar groans trying to pull me off his cock to not cum in my mouth but I seal my lips around his tip and use my tongue to tease him.

"Fuck, fuck fuck," Oscar chants between breathless moans before I feel a jet of cum hit the back of my throat before another and another filling my mouth up to the brim making me swallow still while he's cumming.

By the time he was finished cumming he had filled my mouth with his cum once again making me swallow again.

So not only was Oscar vocal he was also a cummer. Like a lot of cum.

"I didn't think you would swallow otherwise I would've given a warning about how much I cum," Oscar tells me with a blush creeping up on his cheeks clearly slightly embarrassed.

"Oscar, that was the hottest thing ever! Please do not feel bad," I tells him softly while climbing back into his lap.

"Are you sure?" He asks while running his hands up and down my back softly. I just nod my head and place a soft kiss on his cheek making Oscar take my chin in one of his hands and softly pulling me down for a kiss.

"I wanna repay the favor," Oscar softly mumbles against my lips making me smile softly and nod.

As Oscar's lips start trailing down my neck I hear his phone go off making him throw his head back with a groan before reaching over to silence it before we both see Lily's bright smile lighting up on screen. I can tell her contact picture is older because of how young she looks but she's got the same wide smile.

"Answer it," I tell him softly starting to climb off his lap making him tighten his grip on my hip keeping me from getting up.

"Hey, love," Oscar smiles into the camera.

"Hi! Just wanted to see how it went with Y/N?" Lily asks with a clear giddiness in her voice, excited to hear about what happened.

"How about you ask her?" Oscar says back with a slight smirk playing on his lips and when the camera phone turns towards me I see the wide eyed look on her face clearly not expecting me to still be near.

"Hi Y/N! Um- well hi," Lily says making a small laugh fall from my lips. I could see how this whole situation would be strange for her. I mean I was in Italy sitting in her boyfriends lap while she's somewhere in the UK alone.

"Hi, well Lily, your Oscar has been amazing. Thank you for sharing," I tell her softly feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks.

"Of course, I really hope I didn't interrupt anything, I was just too excited to wait any longer," Lily admits making me smile.

"If I knew you were this excited I would've made him Facetime you," I tell her softly while sending a teasing glance towards Oscar who has a satisfied look on his face.

"However I do think my job here is done, your man is tapped out," I giggle while flashing the camera back to Oscar.

"No, we in fact are not done and I am not tapped out," Oscar says quickly while sitting up and pulling me closer.

"Lily go get your vibrator," Oscar says while taking the phone from my hand. I feel the energy shift making me sit up a bit straighter. In a split second Oscar went from half asleep and ready for a nap to whatever is about to happen.

"Osc-" Lily says softly.

"Oscar, if she's not comfortable with this it's okay," I tell him making him shake his head.

"Lily, I know you wish you could be here right now so this is the best I can give you. Strip down and get your vibrator. I know you're fucking soaked already," Oscar tells her. I can hear her getting up out of bed and the sound of clothes hitting the floor before a drawer is opened and slowly closed shortly after.

"I'm gonna give Y/N the phone. You tell her if you want the camera facing her or me," Oscar tells her softly before handing me the phone. Lily had the phone angled just on her face so I can't see more than just her bare shoulders but knowing that she was completely bare was enough to be a complete turn on.

Before I get a chance to do anything Oscar is pulling the phone out of my hand again before he placing it on the couch so it can face the room before standing us up and pulling our bodies into the view.

Oscar slowly unzips my dress while the both of us stare into the camera where I see Lily's cheeks heat but regardless I hear the familiar sound of a vibrator being clicked on before I see a look of relaxation spread across Lily's face.

"Lily what are you doing?" Oscar asks sternly making Lily's eyes open again before she blushes and flips the camera making me gasp slightly as the slightly.

Lily's legs are spread open and while I can't see more than her bare pussy and vibrator clearly on her clit it was enough to make my knees weak.

"Lily, you're quite impatient today," Oscar smirks while slowly pushing my dress down revealing my tits to Lily making her gasp slightly.

"She's so pretty," I hear Lily mumble softly before flipping the camera back to her face showing the bright smile she has across her blushing face.

"She is isn't she," Oscar replies softly while running his fingers along my sides making a goosebumps spread across my skin.

"Lily that's all you," I reply softly before I feel Oscar slowly pulling my thong down my legs letting me step out of it before he discards it somewhere in the room.

Once I was stripped down Oscar pushes me towards the bed again making me grab the phone and wait for Oscar's next instruction.

"Go on, You know what to do," Oscar tells me while gesturing towards the couch making me sit down slowly before laying down and spreading my legs.

"Fuck, you're soaked," Oscar says while still standing but staring at my dripping core.

Once Oscar climbs onto the couch I flip the camera so Lily and can see what he's doing.

Once Lily's eyes open again I see her gasp at the sight in front of her. Her boyfriend is in-between my thighs looking up at the camera before I feel his tongue on my clit making me moan and arch my back at how much I need this right now.

"Oscar," I moan using my free hand to grip into his hair.

I hear another click on through the phone letting me know she had turned the vibrator up higher.

"Fuck, Oscar I'm not gonna last long. I may have played a bit before I called," Lily admits before she flips the camera so I can see what's she's doing.

"Mm, show Y/N how wet you are and maybe I'll let you cum," Oscar says into the camera with a smirk before Lily moves around slightly before propping the phone on a pillow before spreading her thigh again. I let out a shocked gasp at the sight in front of me.

"Fuck, she's fucking soaked Oscar," I tell him softly making Oscar take the phone from my hand to catch a sight of his girlfriend before groaning.

"God you're fucking beautiful," Oscar tells her making me smile softly before Oscar angles the phone onto my body where Oscar shoves two fingers deep into my pussy making a me whimper at the feeling.

"Fuck, she's soaked too," Lily mumbles.

"Dildo or vibrator Lily?" Oscar asks little making Lily pick up the dildo and show the camera.

"Oscar, is that your dick?" I ask a bit stunned when I recognize the thick uncut cock making Oscar smirks down at me.

"You want one too?" Oscar says with a smirk making me laugh softly but it's cut off when Oscar starts finger fucking me harder making me whimper and moan at the intense feeling starting to spread across my body.

Oscar hands me the phone back to I can see Lily cumming but made sure I kept the phone angled on my pussy so she could see when I came.

"I want you guys cumming together," Oscar tells us sternly making Lily whimper clearly closer to the edge than me.

"Please, Y/N cum for Oscar," Lily says softly making a me whimper at her words before Oscar brings his free hand down to my clit where he starts teasing it.

"Fuck Oscar I'm gonna cum," I whimper making Oscar speed his actions up slightly before he starts counting down from 5.

"5"

"4"

"3" Oscar continues fingering me while both Lily and I's moans start growing in volume clearly getting far to close to the edge.

"Oscar I'm gonna cum," Lily whimpers.

"Fucking hold it! Be a good girl," Oscar tells her sternly.

"2" Oscar continues his counting.

"1, cum for me," Oscar tells us both instantly sending both Lily into a squirting orgasm with a load moan.

"Fuck Oscar!" Lily and I both moan the same thing making Oscar smirk slightly knowing he had just made two girls cum at the same time in completely different countries as each other.

"Fuck, Oscar she soaked the bed," I tell him softly while watching Lily ride her orgasm out before I see her slowly slip the dildo out of her pussy before he body went limp in relaxation.

"I mean you soaked the couch and me," Oscar replies back with a smirk making me look down and realize just how much I had cum too.

"Fuck that was good," Lily finally says something while showing her face on camera again.

"Give her aftercare and call me after please," Lily tells him softly making Oscar grab the phone and talk to her for a few seconds before he says his good byes and turns his attention back to me.

I was already back in my dress searching around the room for my panties.

"I have a shower," Oscar tells me while looking at my pleasure sliding down my thighs.

"It's okay, I just don't know where my thong is," I tell him softly making him smile and shrug his shoulder.

"Oscar don't be a weirdo give em back," I tell him while holding my hands out while he groans and reaches into his pocket and pulling them out.

"How did I miss that," I say while he helps me step into them. Once they're pulled up on my hip Oscar sends a teasing rub to my clit for a few seconds making me moan out softly. His actions stopped as quick as they started making me whimper at the loss of contact.

"That was mean," I mumble against his lips before kisses him.

"Just like making me give them back," he smirks back before placing another kiss on my lips.

Oscar pulls away and finds a shirt on the ground before approaching me again and wiping my thighs down.

"I can't make you shower but I refuse to send you back into the garage with your cum leaking down your thighs," Oscar tells me softly before standing up and looking at me.

"Go make sure Lily is okay, please. This is a weird situation for her, and I don't want to ruin a friendship with her over a heat of the moment situation," I tell him softly making Oscar laugh slightly.

"This was her idea. I had told her about the little group chat Lando had thrown me in this weekend and I explained the whole situation and she admitted that she thought it would be hot if I found a way to join," Oscar admits softly making a me laugh a little.

"So Lando was right in a way. You weren't gonna do this without some encouragement," I joke making Oscar groan but none the less nod his head in confirmation.

"Can we do this again sometime?" Oscar asks softly making me laugh a little and nod.

"Whenever you or Lily want. You don't have to put her in the big group chat but I'd love to have one with you, her and I if that was okay," I tell him softly making a bright smile spread across his face before he nods his head.

"I'll talk to her and we'll work something out," Oscar tells me before placing a soft kiss on my lips and walking me to the door where I slipped back into the garage after making sure the coast was clear.

It wasn't even 5 minutes later when I got a new text from Oscar saying hi. When I open the message I Oscar had thrown Lily and I into a group chat.

*image attached*

"Thank you for that!"

I read the message and look at the picture to notice her soft pink sheets covered in her orgasm the same way I had covered Oscar's race suit and couch.

It only a week later when a knock at the door sounds through my apartment. I'm currently on the phone with one of my best friends which has me quickly telling her good bye and I loved her before I made my way to the door and checked through the peephole before opening the door for Charles.

"How can I help you today," I ask with a sarcastic tone given that Charles had pushed his way through the door without an invite.

"Please, I'm so fucking stressed right now with Monaco this weekend I just need a release, please," Charles says in a hurried breath making a smile crack out on my face.

"No," I tell him with a straight face and a smirk.

"What! WHy not please! I really just need to get my mind off of this weekend for just an hour or so," Charles says getting increasingly more anxious.

"Charles, you need to focus on this weekend. These emotions are good. I refuse to be a distraction okay. If you win on Sunday you can come stroming into my apartment some time next week and I'll make sure to give a reward," I tell him softly while pulling him in for a hug and place a soft kiss on his cheek which turns slightly red under my touch.

"Y/N- you know what, the wait will be worth it and when I win Monaco I'm gonna have you cumming so fucking hard you can't think straight," Charles says with a final nod before pulling me back into his arms for a hug before he made his way back to the front door.

"Don't let anyone else touch you for the next week. I want you desperate," Charles says with a bright smirk on his face making me laugh and shake my head softly.

The second the front door of my apartment is closed behind Charles I receive a text when I check it I see that Charles had wasted no time in letting the rest of the boys know how off limits I was until he won Monaco.

It's Monday not even 10 in the morning when a loud knock rings through my apartment making me check to see who it was before opening the door to Charles.

"Get in your room, please, I can't wait a second longer to taste you," Charles says before I can even get a word in.

"Hey Charles, slow down. Congradulation," I say while closing the door before pulling Charles into me and placing a kiss on his lips.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. It took everything in me not to jump you at the club last night," Charles admits making me laugh and shake my head slightly.

Lando had made it his mission to piss Charles off the whole week when he declared me as off limits. While Lando respected Charles's wishes the same way everyone respected each other he made it a goal to rile Charles up as much as possible and last night in the Monaco club where we were celebrating Charles Lando had pulled me into his lap and made sure every feathered kiss along my jaw or neck was explicitly seen my Charles.

"You could've. I did say after you won Monaco I was all yours. Speaking of club, how the fuck are you awake right now. You were fucking plastered when I brought you and Alexandra up to your place," I tell him softly while he busies himself with placing soft kisses all along my jawline.

"I had good motivation," he tells me simply with a smirk.

Alex and Charles had a very open relationship. Like so open we all knew it was open before this little arrangement became a thing. I mean hell Alex and I had spent a few nights together long before Charles ever got the chance.

"Okay no more talking, your room now, please," Charles says sternly before adding in a sweet please.

I make my way into my room with Charles following closely behind and the second I'm in the room Charles is pulling my sleep shirt off a long with pulling my black leggings down my legs leaving me in my Ferrari red thong I put on when I woke up knowing there was a good chance today was when Charles would be knocking on my door.

"Fuck, I wish I could see you in red more," Charles groans when he sees the thong.

"Mmm I only wear red for Carlos," I say with a smirk knowing how Carlos getting his hands on me before Charles is the only thing Charles is 'jealous' about.

Charles just sends me a dirty look before sending down a harsh slap down on my ass making me whimper at the sting.

"Oh, so first it was Lando all week not knowing how to keep his hands to himself and now you want to go and say stupid things," Charles says with a smirk before picking me up and bringing me to my bed were he plops me down and instantly spreads my legs before sending a slap down on my pussy making a me jump and whimper at the sudden stinging sensations.

"I haven't even touched you and I can tell your soaked," Charles says down at me before moving my things to the side to find my pussy absolutely dripping for him.

"Fuck, so fucking gorgeous," Charles groans before leaning down and taking a small lick through my folds making me gasps when the tip of his tongue grazes my pussy.

"I'll be here for the next hour so you better make yourself comfortable," Charles mumbles into my pussy before he starts eating me out like there's no tomorrow.

It doesn't take long for Charles to bring me over the edge. After going a week without touching myself or any of the boys I was desperate and ready.

"Fuck, CHarles," I moan as I cum on his tongue. Charles makes no attempt at stopping, if anything he sped up his actions making me scream out slightly.

Another 3 orgasms later Charles is finally pulling his drenched face away from my overstimulated pussy clearly being serious about spending the next hours between my thighs because when I turn my head slightly I see the clock just after 11 in the morning.

"Color?" Charles asks while giving me a look of concern when he sees my blissed out state.

Once the group chat started to grow we all started setting ground rules, and almost instantly Carlos had implemented a safe word system as well as a hand signal in case I can't speak, knowing that while right now it was fairly Vanilla there would come a time it was in fact not vanilla and they all agreed that this was meant for my pleasure just as much as theirs.

"Green," I reply softly making Charles smile slightly up at me before he's stripping out of his clothes and grabbing a condom out of my night stand where he finds my vibrator making me look at it in horror and shake my head knowing what he was thinking.

We had also made an agreement that we will always use protection unless it was a private arrangement and conversation

"You mean you didn't touch yourself at all this last week?" Charles asks with a smirk on his face.

"No, you weren't super clear so I just didn't touch at all," I tell him softly making him smirk before putting it back into the drawer and finally grabbing the condom before ripping it open and rolling it on his cock.

Once it was fully on he slowly slides in making both of us moan in contentment before he almost instantly starts thrusting into me no longer being able to restrain himself.

"Fuck, Charlie," I moan when he starts hitting my sweet spot over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful taking me," Charles grunts softly while looking down at me making me moan at his praise.

Charles was filling me up in the best way and I can already feel another orgasm starting to build and I can tell Charles isn't far behind. 'Charles was filling me up in the best way and I can already feel another orgasm starting to build and I can tell Charles isn't far behind.

"Fuck," Charles grunts while throwing his head back before letting out a finally groan of pleasure before cumming with a final thrust sending me over the edge to the feeling of Charles filling the condom up.

"Charlie," I gasp out while he softly thrusts into me helping me ride out my orgasm.

Once we have both come down from our highs Charles slowly pulls his cock out of me before tying off and throwing the condom in the trash before coming back into the room from my bathroom with a warm towel he used to wipe me down softly before climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest.

"I'm gonna fall back to sleep," I mumble against his skin making Charles giggle softly.

"Okay, when Alex wakes up she's gonna grab us all lunch if that's okay," Charles tells me softly making a me nod against his chest before letting sleep consume my body.

[kihyunsflavor]

I belong to you

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: Your house unknown but a high-born and a Bene Gesserit, you get wed to the na-baron of Giedi Prime, Feyd-Rautha. It´s not easy with him and his darlings, but after some time it seems you are much to his liking. Is there a soft side hidden inside Feyd, only for his wife to see or will he treat you the same as any servant?

Warnings: arranged marriage (like all of them lol), smut, violent behavior, breeding kink, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of knives and blood, size kink

Word count: 3.5k

Authors note: English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it <3

The bed was comfortable and soft, much different than the room itself with his stony, cold walls and the black interior. You were not asleep, just lying in bed with closed eyes. The current situation making you uneasy and sleep didn’t come easily. Next to that were the people standing in your room. You felt their preying eyes on your body even though the blanket covered you fully. It was Feyd-Rautha, your newlywed husband, with his darlings. There were three of them, being his concubines for quite some time. 

“She is rather ugly.” One girl spoke up, not even caring to whisper her words. They probably wanted you to hear it anyways. “Next to that she is a witch.” The other hissed. Feyd stayed quiet but you knew he had a big smile plastered on his face. You didn’t move nor open your eyes, you wanted to know why they suddenly decided to pay you a visit at this hour. Your husband hasn’t been in your chambers before, not even after marriage did he share the bed with you. He was spending time with his darlings and only having this annoying black teethed grin on his face when you ran into him.

“I think she is awake, Feyd. The witch listened to us since we came here.” 

The room was dark, no light coming through the big windows. This planet was very dim, caused by the industrial pollution and their black sun. One of the reasons why you missed your home planet so much. There you had fields of green grass, blue skies and people were dressed in colorful clothes. It was a warm planet, like spring and autumn combined. 

You opened your eyes and stared at the little group in your chamber. Your expression cold, showing no emotion. Feyd and his darlings kept your gaze, amusement hiding behind their eyes. Slowly, you sat up glancing shortly at the clock next to your bed. It was 2 am. “What is the reason you came into my room at this hour, my Lord?” You asked, annoyance showing through your voice. Again, this grin on his face. He hasn’t shared many words with you since you arrived on Giedi Prime. All you ever dream of is this exact expression. 

“My darlings wanted to take a look at my little present.” Present? No, you were not just a mere gift to him, but right now Feyd sought only to demean you.

He sat down on the edge of the bed to your feet, his eyes never leaving your face. He wanted to drink up every expression you were going to show him. But there was nothing. You had trained long, you were good at it. Instead, you shifted your eyes to his three concubines. They all looked pretty similar, only one of them had a big black bar on her forehead. Their skin was white, eyes fully black and their heads shaved, not a single hair on their body just like Feyd. You had heard they were the beauties of Giedi Prime - and they fed on human flesh. 

“I have been here for two months now. Did they not have the chance to take a look at me yet?” You replied. Feyd shifted next to you and your eyes fell back on him. He didn’t like the tone you were using. “Careful wife, that´s not how you speak to me.” You mustered his face, he appeared to be displeased by your reaction, not expecting you to talk back like this. He was a scary man, unpredictable and violent, but you were not an ordinary girl. Trained in the way of the Bene Gesserit, you mastered the Voice. There was no way you would give yourself that easily to him. “I apologize, husband.” Seconds later, there was a knife sitting at your throat. The cold blade grazed your skin lightly, but still breaking it enough to release tiny drops of blood. You were surprised by his sudden reaction and leaned back. Holding your chin high, you did not break eye contact with Feyd´s dark blue eyes. “You better shut your mouth!” 

It was a command. He wanted you to submit, making it clear he had full control over you. However, you simply stared back at him, not moving a muscle. This made him angry, but he didn’t change the pressure of his hold. “Do you want me to cut your neck, little mouse? I could slice you up right in this moment.” The grin wandered back on his face, making you uneasy. He was enjoying the thought of making you bleed. You replied after a while, choosing your next words carefully. “I will give myself to you completely, but it will be out of my own will, not through force, na-Baron.”

Feyd´s expression went blank for a second. He sensed something in you, something he hasn’t been confronted with before. Now snarling he said “You better do as I say, wife. I won´t think twice about staining these sheets red with your blood.” A soft smile appeared on your lips; it was not to tease him. With a calmer voice you replied “No, you won´t treat me like this. I am your wife, not a mere servant you command. I will submit to you, but you need to earn my respect first.”

During this whole time the three concubines just stood there watching you and Feyd. There was so much tension in the air, that they didn’t dare to interfere. But then Feyd leaned back on his heels and the knife left your throat. You straightened your back and touched your skin where it had been broken softly. Tiny droplets of blood stained your fingers, but it was not much. Suddenly one of the concubines dropped to her knees next to the bed. She looked at your fingers with pleading eyes. “Let me taste your blood, please.” You starred at her confused than back at your fingers. Thinking about all possibilities what could go wrong if you let her do it, you finally decided to let her lick your fingers clean. Reaching out to her, she immediately leaned forward to lap at them. For a second you looked back at Feyd, who carried his usual smile, enjoying the situation in front of him. But in the next moment the girl kneeling on the ground raised rapidly and tasted the fresh wound on your neck. 

“Go away!” Stripped of control over her own body, the concubine moved away from you. She blinked disorientated, trying to figure out what just had happened. 

“How dare you?!” The other concubines hissed, dripping with spite. Feyd was showing not a single emotion in his face. You directed your next words to the concubines. “You ask me how I dare? I don’t think I gave her permission to touch my neck.” Those standing looked to Feyd for help and protection, yet his gaze remained solely fixed on you. “Do you think you are better than us? We have been here for a long time. You are just a foreign girl.” They started to argument, but you interrupted them. “Yes, I think I am better. You may have been in his care for ages, but who is the one that will bear his heir? It will only be me.” Your response silenced them.

The room was quiet, you watched Feyd taking in your words. It appeared as though a realization washed over him, yet he wouldn’t let it go so easily. 

The knife returned to your throat, this time softer, drawing no blood. “I don’t like the way you treat my darlings. You are not yet with child, wife.” His eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. “And why is that?" You retorted sharply. "If you had devoted more time to me after our marriage, I might be carrying an heir now. But instead, you choose to spend your days and nights with them.” If he wanted to play a game, you certainly wouldn't hesitate to participate. 

There was anger and fury dancing in his eyes, yet nestled behind it, timid and faint, was attraction. You almost had him at your grasp. “And why is it that you have an issue with my behavior towards your concubines, but overlook their insults and disrespect towards me? This is not how I imagined Feyd-Rautha, the na-Baron, to treat his wife.” 

Feyd was taken aback by your words and let his hand with the knife sink down. You both held each other's gaze for a while, almost as if engaged in a silent communication through your eyes. It felt as though he had finally comprehended the entirety of the situation. Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, offering your throat to him in submission. It was the gesture he had been seeking - a sign of surrender. In the next moment you heard the knife hit the ground with a sharp clink and his raspy deep voice, dismissing the concubines.

Soft, wet lips immediately left a trail of kisses along your exposed neck. He made a grunting noise while inhaling your scent. You shifted your arms and laid flat on your back, opening your legs so he could just fit nicely in between them. Feyd made a noise of appreciation and continued his assault on your skin. “My dear little wife, being so obedient now.” When whispering, his voice sounded much deeper. It turned you on. His hands found your clothed breasts, squeezing them roughly, but as your hand caressed the back of his head calmly, he softened his touch. He raised his head and locked eyes with you before kissing you for the second time, since you arrived on this planet. 

The blanket was fully gone now, thrown into the last part of the bed. Your nightdress pulled up, so his hands had free access to your naked skin. Feyd enjoyed tracing the curves of your body, savoring every glimpse he could get of you. “Yes, so pretty like that. You like it too, don’t you, little mouse?” He grinned and his face moved closer to your face again to fully capture your expression in this dimly lit room. “I like it very much, husband.” “Feyd. Say my name.” His lips lingered over yours, waiting for it. “I like it very much, Feyd.” You repeated. A growl leaving his throat, he pressed his lips to yours. 

His right hand wandered down to your clothed cunt. He brushed over it, making you whine into his mouth. He grinned, slipping his hand underneath your panties and gliding his fingers through your heat. “You´re so wet, my dear. Is that all for me?” A moan escaped your mouth at his words. Oh how his deep voice and words turned you on. You were sure, he could make you come just with it alone. Not trusting your voice, you nodded. He watched you, as his fingers played with your sensitive area. Gradually, he lowered his lips, planting kisses along your cleavage, grazing over your nipples, and trailing down to your stomach. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your lace panties. “They are so pretty, but unfortunately, they have to go.” Feyd remarked.

After they were thrown onto the floor, Feyd leaned down between your legs, placing small kisses on your inner thighs. You arched your back at the pleasure and quiet whimpers escaped your throat. Feyd made his way to your pussy and gave it a lick, making you shudder. “You like that?” He grinned suggestively at you, revealing his black teeth. But he didn´t wait for an answer, instead he ravished you like a starving man. His big hands were placed on either side of your hips to keep you pressed into the mattress, since it was difficult for you to stay still. Quickly, two fingers entered you, moving slowly. Your moans grew louder, searching hands buried themselves in the black sheets. “I am going to come, Feyd!” Goosebumps spread all over your body, you were so close to your release. “Then come, little mouse!” He commanded and you let yourself go fully. It was a climax like you never had before when touching yourself alone. Your husband was definitely very skilled. 

After you had calmed down a little, Feyd loomed over you. His lips found yours again and he rutted against your body. Even though he was still clothed, you could feel how turned on he was. “Gonna have my way with you now, yea?” He chuckled, leaning back to pull his pants down. Your eyes widened at his length and thickness, as you starred at his dick. You began to worry how it was going to fit inside you. Feyd saw the change in your expression and bend back down, holding himself up with one arm next to your head, while the other pumped his cock slowly. “Don´t worry, dear. I will be gentle.” He planted a kiss to the tip of your nose and you locked eyes with him. His now gentle and tender actions made you wonder, if it was just a tactic to make you trust him. Despite this uncertainty, you didn´t sense any unease in your gut. 

You gave him a shy smile and your hands found his strong shoulders. “Will you put this off as well? I want to see you.” Your words amused him, he enjoyed the way you behaved. “Everything my little wife wants.” He answered proudly, feeling his ego boosted and leaning back to remove his shirt. You mustered his pale skin - it was white like snow. Curious fingers grazed over his muscles, Feyd placed his hand over yours. It made you feel safe. There was no longer anger or violence directed towards you.

You gazed at each other for a while, neither of you feeling the need to break eye contact. It was easier to read his emotions now, and it was clear that he wanted the same thing as you did. You freed your hand out of his hold and placed it on his strongly erected member. Gently, you started stroking him. Feyd closed his eyes and tilted his head back from the pleasure he was feeling. You tightened your grip, precome dripping out of the tip. It was such an arousing view. 

Suddenly Feyd gripped your wrists and placed them over your head. “I want to come inside you, little mouse.” He breathed huskily in your ear. You didn’t mind this at all, finally feeling his touch on your body was exhilarating. You had always desired his attention. 

There was some impatience in his movements now. Feyd stared at your naked body underneath him, while his free hand positioned your hips at the perfect angle. You felt yourself clamping down on nothing, wanting to be filled up by his pretty cock. “My love, you look irresistible. You won´t be getting any sleep tonight.” His husky voice sent shivers down your spine, excitement bubbling in your stomach. Before he entered you, he freed your wrists out of his grasp to support his own weight. You panicked for a second as it seemed like he was going to lean back, and you really disliked not having him close in this vulnerable situation. Feyd smiled, his face only mere inches from yours. “I'm not going anywhere.” He reassured you with his raspy voice and captured your lips.

Kissing him shifted your focus away from the pain between your legs, as he pushed inside your tight hole. “Doing so good for me, doll.” He hushed your whimpers, pressing you closer to his warm body. You felt safe in his arms, being able to relax completely. After he was fully sheathed inside you, he let you adjust to his size.

Blinking slowly, you opened your eyes and looked at him. His eyes were already fixed on your features. Small praises left his lips, before he loosened his hug on you and brought his arms next to your head. You felt so small when he was hovering over you like this. Not long after, Feyd started to move his hips. First, he was gentle and slow but as your moans grew louder, he quickened his pace. Your hands wandered over his wide, muscled back, fingernails causing small scratches to appear. The pain spurned him on. “They gave me such a perfect wife, taking me so well.” Your husband praised and placed a kiss on your forehead. You shuddered and felt your release being close. Feyd´s thrusts started to become sloppy and unsteady as well. He cursed under his breath and bit into your shoulder. You squeaked at the sudden pain. “Feyd, I am close.” You whispered. He lifted his head again and grinned. “Good girl, yea… I am close too.” He growled, his eyes turning even darker. You caught a glimpse of primal instinct in them, like you were his prey. “Come for me whenever you are ready, little mouse.”

Feyd pulled out completely, only his tip touching your entrance slightly. Then in a fast movement, he pushed inside again, going in so deep his dick kissed your cervix. You made a startled sound and in the next moment could only moan. He was hitting all the right places, which made you come hard. Your back arched off the mattress, while moaning your husband’s name in bliss. Feyd had waited for your climax until he let himself go and filled you up with his seed. “So good... so good for me.” He rasped, out of breath, still coming down from his high. 

You had closed your eyes, only opening them when Feyd was moving over you. He had leaned back on his heels. One hand was placed protectively over your stomach, while the other held up your leg. He watched his cum drip out of your pussy. When his attention returned to your face, he grinned slyly. “Not done with you yet.” You were quickly turned around on all fours. “Yes, stay like that.” Feyd´s body was pressed into your back and his dick rubbed on your ass. He was growing bigger and bigger every second. Calloused fingers found their way into your hair and he tugged harshly on it. “Going to fill you up again. That´s what you wanted, am I right, little mouse?” You could hear how much he enjoyed teasing you.

There was no time for a reply, as he pushed inside of you with ease and you couldn’t surpress the moan that escaped you at the feeling of the stretch. The sensation nearly stole your breath away and Feyd immediately set a rapid pace. In this angle he felt significantly larger and deeper than before. All you could manage were small whimpers in response to the overwhelming sensation. 

Feyd´s free hand, that was placed on your waist, landed a sharp slap on one of your cheeks. The pain made you hiss through clenched teeth and you turned your head slightly to look back at him. Pleasure and lust were written on his face and when you caught his eyes, a smirk appeared. “Don’t look at me like this, love. I know you liked it, clenching down on me so tightly.” He pulled your hair back, forcing you to sit up. Your back was pressed against his chest when he whispered into your ear. “Tell me how much you like it.”

A shudder went down your spine and you whined. He was so deep inside of you. With a shaky hand you pressed down on your lower belly to feel the bulge Feyd was creating. “It feels really good-ah!” You answered him. “You like it, when I fuck you like this, little mouse?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Yes, yes Feyd.” Seconds later your orgasm approached and you came hard on his cock. Soft lips were gently pressed to your cheek, while you tried to catch your breath. Even though his thrusts were harsh, abusing your insides, he still handled you with care.

His pace didn’t falter as he was hunting his own release. Your body went limp, but he held you up on strong arms, moving you back on dick. And again, he filled you up with a huge amount of his seed. 

He actually stayed true to his word of not letting you sleep the whole night. When a faint light filtered through the windows, signaling the arrival of morning, you had just reached your 5th or 6th climax. You weren't even sure because, at some point, logical thoughts ceased to form in your head.

Feyd laid you down gently as your eyes were closed from tiredness. He had fetched a wet cloth to wipe you clean. The coolness was soothing against your feverish skin. After he finished, you felt the mattress sink in as he laid down next to you. Protective hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you close to his body. "Mine," he whispered softly and placed a tender kiss on your temple. If you weren't going to fall pregnant after this night, you didn’t even know what to believe in anymore. 

[austinbutlerslovers]

⭐️ The Voting was Unanimous ⭐️

(special thanks for each one)

Just Between Us Avaiable 2.9

⬇️**Sneak Peak **⬇️

The morning starts slow, just the way you like it. Sunlight filters through the curtains, golden and warm, stretching across the sheets as you stir awake. 

The faint scent of coffee drifts from the kitchen, and when you finally push yourself out of bed, you find Austin already there, barefoot, hair still messy from sleep, an espresso  in his hand as he leans lazily against the counter.

“Morning, beautiful,” he smiles, his eyes flicking up from his phone as you step into the kitchen. His voice is still heavy with sleep, rough in a way that makes your stomach flip.

You hum in response, stretching before making your way over to him. He sets his espresso down just in time to pull you against his chest pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Sleep good?” he asks.

You nod against him, relishing the warmth of his body, the way his arms wrap securely around you. “Mmm, would’ve slept better if you stayed in bed longer,” you mumble, half teasing, half serious.

Austin grins, his lips brushing over your forehead. “I tried. But I figured I’d make breakfast instead.”

He gestures toward the counter, where he’s already set out eggs, toast, and fresh fruit.

Your smile up at him lovingly and he smirks. “Go sit,” he says, nudging you toward the stool by the counter. “I’ll make you an espresso.”

You obey, watching him move around the kitchen with practiced ease. The smell of coffee fills the space, mingling with the scent of fresh toast, and for a moment, everything feels perfect—easy, familiar, yours.

“Oh,” Austin says casually, pouring steamed milk into your espresso, the delicate swirl of foam rising to the top. “Callum’s staying for a week.”

Your fork pauses mid air, your eyes snapping to him in disbelief.

“Callum Turner?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly.

Austin smirks, setting the espresso in front of you. “Yeah. Callum Turner.”

Your brain runs wild. First of all, it’s Callum Turner: British, charming, and the embodiment of effortlessly cool. Second of all, it’s Callum Turner staying in your house for a week.

“How did this happen ?” you ask, setting your fork down.

Austin grins at your enthusiasm. “Few days ago. Said he wanted a place to stay that felt more comfortable than a hotel during his visit to the U.S.”

You blink at him in disbelief still processing the information. “What made you say yes?”

Austin leans back his smirk widening seeing how invested you are in Callum’s visit, studying you as if you should already know the answer.

“It’s Callum,” he says simply, grinning as if that explains everything.

please give us a callum austin and reader threesome!!!!!!!!

Fic Written Based on Votes🗳️ : TBA 1 week Just Between Us

Summary Austin invites Callum Turner to stay at your place for the week, but as the days pass, you begin to suspect they have something planned that they aren’t telling you. Their teasing and lingering touches build tension until, on the final night, they reveal exactly what they’ve been planning all along —both of them want you at the same time.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Austin +You + Callum • both focused on your pleasure •both enjoying you at the same time•praising •sweet talk • good girl•being kissed by both • being passed between both • being used at the same time by both •fingering •clit play •nipple play • size kink • “Eiffel Tower” •oral on male • cum eating •P in V• simultaneous orgasms• cream pie •after care from both

*I would love to write this and want to make sure it’s favored if Austin shares you w Callum at the same time, with both of them only focused on your pleasure before using you to satisfy their own.

🏷️ Alway Tag Me

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @psycheetamore @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @dunevitani @unicoo @thejoywillburnoutthepain @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader/3 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @stars-remain2 @skulliecadaver-blog

[jakeywake]

Hey guys, I’ve got in my mind an Austin fic series I would love to read, but just don’t have the writing abilities. I really love the idea of being Baz and Catherine’s daughter so if anyone would be keen to write it or knows anyone who would please do bc I have been dying to read something like this for so long.

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any ���coming of age” rituals. 

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 

“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 

“Soon.” 

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 

But god, you wanted to live. 

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you���d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 

The two of you were communicating. 

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 

Animal, indeed. 

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 

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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

[andy-15-07]

A Father's Pride

masterlist ! pairing Feyd-Rautha x reader

SUMMARY : feyd rautha watches how Y/n plays with their child and hears her telling him about their relationship

DUNE Masterlist

Feyd Rautha watched from the doorway, a proud smile tugging at his lips as he observed his wife, Y/n, playing with their young child in the living room. The room was filled with the sound of their child's delighted laughter as Y/n tickled and chased them around the room, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"You're getting faster, little one!" Y/n exclaimed, her voice filled with affection as she scooped up their giggling child in her arms.

Feyd's heart swelled with love as he watched the tender moment between mother and child. He stepped into the room, his presence unnoticed as Y/n continued to play with their child, completely absorbed in the moment.

"You're such a good mother," Feyd murmured, his voice soft with admiration.

Y/n looked up, surprise flickering in her eyes as she saw her husband standing there. A warm smile spread across her face as she approached him, their child still cradled in her arms.

"Feyd, I didn't hear you come in," she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Did you want to join us?"

Feyd nodded, his gaze lingering on their child. "I just wanted to watch for a moment. You two seem to be having so much fun."

Y/n grinned, bouncing their child gently in her arms. "We are. But it's even better when you're here with us."

Feyd's heart swelled with love at her words. He had never imagined he could be so lucky as to have Y/n as his wife and the mother of his child. As they settled down on the couch together, their child nestled between them, Y/n leaned her head against Feyd's shoulder.

"Remember when we first met?" Y/n asked, her voice filled with nostalgia.

Feyd nodded, a fond smile playing on his lips. "How could I forget? You captured my heart from the moment I saw you."

Y/n chuckled, her fingers tracing circles on their child's back. "And you swept me off my feet with your charm and wit."

They reminisced about their early days together, sharing stories of their courtship and the adventures they had shared. Feyd couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come since then—from two strangers brought together by chance to a family bound by love.

"You've given me everything I ever dreamed of and more," Feyd said, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/n smiled, her eyes shining with love. "And you've given me a life I never could have imagined. I'm grateful for every moment we've shared together."

Their child yawned, snuggling closer to them as they settled down for the night. Feyd pressed a kiss to Y/n's forehead, feeling grateful for the love and happiness they had found together.

"I love you, Y/n," Feyd whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n leaned into his embrace, her heart overflowing with love. "I love you too, Feyd. More than words can express."

As they sat there together, surrounded by the warmth and love of their family, Feyd felt a sense of peace wash over him. In that moment, he knew that no matter what trials they faced in the future, as long as they were together, they could overcome anything.

And as their child drifted off to sleep in their arms, Feyd couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the precious gift of family that he held in his arms—a gift that he would cherish for the rest of his days.

[3d-wifey]

WHAT?! WHAT?! "IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME AND YOU GETTING MARRIED." WHAT?????!

Either Callum Turner made that up and is in love with Austin Butler, or the actual ppl were very tragically gay. It's probably both